


Little Prince, Kneel

by DragonGirl87



Series: LPK-verse [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Beads, Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Angst, BDSM, BDSM Munch, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Collars, Discipline, Dom Harry Potter, Dom/sub, Draco Malfoy Loves Dogs, Draco Malfoy Speaks French, Dungeon, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Experienced Harry, Falling In Love, First Dates, Flirting, Forced Orgasm, Good Narcissa Black Malfoy, Hand Jobs, Harry Has Secrets, Harry Potter & Ginny Weasley Friendship, Harry Potter Speaks French, Head Auror Harry Potter, Improved Use Of A Spatula, Improvised Sex Toys, Lawyer Draco Malfoy, Leashes, M/M, Magical BDSM, Master/Pet, Masturbation in Shower, Mild subdrop, Multiple Orgasms, Non-Sexual Bondage, Not Epilogue Compliant, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Harry Potter, Possessive Harry Potter, Power Play, Praise Kink, Prostate Massage, Protective Harry Potter, Punishment, Pyrophobia, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Riding Crops, Romantic Harry Potter, Rope Bondage, Rough Sex, Rutting, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safewords, Sassy Draco Malfoy, Sensation Play, Sex Toys, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Tension, Shibari, Shower Sex, Slow Burn, Spanking, Sub Draco Malfoy, Subspace, Teasing, Teddy Lupin was Raised by Harry Potter, Top Harry Potter, Wax Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-01-13 05:30:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 75
Words: 477,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18462467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonGirl87/pseuds/DragonGirl87
Summary: Almost immediately after the war, Harry Potter took his godson and Andromeda and left England behind. He returned five, nearly six, years later; changed, healed, and a very different man altogether. Now an extremely handsome bachelor in his late twenties, and with a promising career at the Ministry, he suddenly finds his life turned upside down after unexpectedly bumping into his former school nemesis, Draco Malfoy, Prosecutor Extraordinaire.Is Harry going to be able to stay away from Draco? Does he even want to? And exactly how will Draco react once he discovers how the Saviour prefers to spend his free time?





	1. Coffee?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KingKay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingKay/gifts).
  * Inspired by [He Kneels](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16906947) by [DragonGirl87](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonGirl87/pseuds/DragonGirl87). 



>  
> 
> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)  
> 
> 
> So, a couple of months ago, I wrote a little BDSM-themed standalone that ( _and I was so surprised_ ) received a whole lot of love. After many late nights of taking to my muse ( _he's a real person, not a figment of imagination, though he's so wonderfully amazing that sometimes it does feel like I've made him up..._ ) we decided that I should really write a rather lengthy BDSM-themed tale about how that standalone actually happened.
> 
> I can, at times, be quite the pushover ( _or maybe K is just very convincing_ ) but either way, I gave in...mainly because I had a month-long winter holiday coming up and was desperate to lock myself away to write something long and hot that would keep me distracted and occupied (yeah, I know, coming from a writer that's a believable excuse indeed).
> 
> I never expected the story to take on a life of its own but it did, partly because I didn't exercise a lot of control when it came to controlling my characters and partly because the ideas just kept coming. It has now turned into the longest thing I have ever written and since I'm almost finished writing it, I'm just so _bloody_ desperate to share it with you all. I really hope you enjoy this. *crosses fingers and prays* A whole lot of blood, sweat and tears ( **!!!** ) went into the creation of this story and somehow it feels like raising a child, if that metaphor makes any sense at all.
> 
> I could write a lot about what drove me to write the story and what inspired me ( _apart from my lovable muse_ ) but that would probably result in an Author's Note that's longer than the first chapter and nobody wants that, lest of all me.
> 
> I think I've put just about everything necessary into the tags ( _which took FOREVER to complete_ ) so all that's really left to say is, **_have fun_**. Oh, and I would, of course, love to know what you think about the story, but hey, no pressure.
> 
> Lastly, I don't usually have a beta but massive thanks go to ["Winterwolke"](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winterwolke/pseuds/Winterwolke) who worked really hard on turning the first eighteen chapters into something readable, her help was very much appreciated and I learnt a lot along the way.

* * *

Harry smiled, reached out and tugged a stray strand of longish dark-blond hair behind Stefan’s ear. Stefan instinctively lowered his head and Harry clicked his tongue in mild disapproval.

“You can look at me, pet,” he encouraged and Stefan slowly lifted his head to reveal a hesitant but beautifully innocent smile. Harry reached for Stefan’s hand and circled his thumb gently over the pulse point on his wrist.

“Caleb is a good man, he’ll take good care of you, Stefan. You do know that, don’t you?” he reminded the young, slightly insecure man who stood before him and Stefan nodded in understanding and agreement.

Harry had spent the last three months training Stefan, teaching him all he needed to know about being submissive, and especially being a submissive for Caleb. Compared to his previous charges, it hadn’t been all that much of a challenge since Stefan was naturally submissive, relished in following orders and just needed a little guidance, as well as a steady hand.

They had met with Caleb a few times over the last two weeks and both Caleb and Stefan seemed rather smitten with each other, although Stefan was still somewhat shy whenever he was around his new Dom. Harry had no doubt that both Caleb and Stefan wouldn’t take long to get properly acquainted. He had known Caleb for a little over five years and had the utmost faith in him.

“I know, Sir.”

Harry chuckled and his eyes twinkled with amusement.

“I’m not your Dom anymore, pet, best not upset Caleb now, hm? He might just get jealous…” Harry glanced at Caleb, who sat in a comfortable armchair with one leg thrown over the other, waiting patiently, a content smile playing around his lips. They shared a smile; Harry raised a questioning eyebrow and Caleb nodded approvingly.

Several years of friendship meant that Harry didn’t necessarily need words to communicate with Caleb. Following the silent exchange, Harry engulfed Stefan in a tight, comforting hug.

Stefan almost automatically moved his arms as if to return the embrace, but he hesitated and awkwardly held them mid-air instead.

“You can hug me,” Harry permitted and Stefan gratefully returned the hug, melted into the embrace and Harry silently counted to five, then disentangled himself and stepped back.

“It’s time, pet,” he said firmly, gave Caleb one last nod, then turned and made his way towards the door. He heard Caleb calling out to his new sub, but did not turn around to watch the first proper exchange between Stefan and his new Dom. It wasn’t for his eyes or ears, that moment was theirs and theirs alone.

Instead, he swiftly pulled the door open, left the spacious flat and slowly descended the three flights of stairs. He hated goodbyes. They _always_ reminded him of that time, long ago, when David had left him. He had felt so confused and lost in the weeks following their separation and some of that sentiment still lingered behind.

It only ever really surfaced when he found himself saying goodbye to someone he cared about and Harry knew that he would be back to his usual self well before dinner, but for now, he allowed himself a moment of vulnerability. One couldn’t always be tough and in charge of everything.

To him, training a new submissive was like an exceptionally good Quidditch match; it was wild, unpredictable, full of endless possibilities and opportunities to grow and learn. Introducing a well-trained submissive to their new Master, however, it felt a bit like sending your child off to study at Hogwarts, or so Harry imagined.

Those last few moments on Platform 9¾, just after everyone had boarded the Hogwarts Express and the train pulled out of the station to take the students away to another year filled with magic, spells, potions, charms, and transfiguration.

Remembering his own excitement each year, Harry tried to look at it from the other side. He imagined excited parents, finally being able to enjoy a bit of peace and quiet. The fantasy was sweet enough but it still filled Harry with a sense of melancholy.

Teddy was due to start Hogwarts in a few years and Harry dreaded the idea of sending his godson away for the better part of the year. He dreaded it so much that he pushed the mere thought of it to the furthest, darkest corner of his mind and locked it away.

 _Ignorance is bliss_ , he thought.

It really wasn’t, but when it came to sending Teddy away to Hogwarts, logical thinking wasn’t exactly Harry’s strong point. He excelled at it in all other areas of his life, especially when it came to exerting dominance, but Teddy was most definitely his Achilles’ heel.

Once outside the impressive-looking building of expensive flats, Harry took a deep breath, looked up at the blue sky and smiled.

 _Everything will be all right_ , he mused, enjoying the warm spring afternoon too much not to let the happiness soak through his skin and settle into his bones. With a slight spring in his step, he walked down the road, turned left, and continued walking until he made it back onto Portobello Road, with its colourful assortment of small boutiques, independent coffee shops, crammed bookshops, artistry florists, and hip, one-of-a-kind jewellers.

These past few years he had developed somewhat of a penchant for Notting Hill, though he wasn’t quite sure what exactly it was that he found so charming about this very area of London. Nevertheless, he continued walking at a much slower pace and decided to indulge in the colourful displays in the shop windows to his left.

He stopped every so often and even took the time to walk into a small bookshop, aimlessly browsing for a while. As luck would have it, he found a book that caught his interest, namely a second-hand first-edition psychological thriller that sparked his curiosity to the degree that he simply had to have it.

He had enough Muggle money on him and with the book firmly stowed away inside a paper bag, that had a beautiful design at the front, he continued his stroll down the road until he found himself doing a double-take near the entrance of a small coffee shop. Surprised, he stopped in his tracks and blinked, wondering whether his mind was playing tricks on him.

There, in a tattered but comfortable armchair, surrounded by paperwork, sat none other than Draco Malfoy, the very person who had gone out of his way to make his time at Hogwarts miserable.

 _All that over a rejected friendship_ , Harry thought bitterly. He couldn’t help but chuckle when he realised that seeing Malfoy didn’t ignite that spark of annoyance he had always felt in the pit of his stomach whenever they had bickered or duelled with each other while at Hogwarts.

 _Potter, you’ve grown up_ , Harry praised himself and chuckled some more.

Since his return to London several years ago, he hadn’t really seen Malfoy and, Harry noted with a frown, they most definitely hadn’t spoken to each other since the end of the war, which was odd considering that they now worked in the same building.

The day he had given his last sworn witness statement in front of the Wizengamot, Harry had packed up his possessions and left with Andromeda and Teddy for Canada. He had been desperate to make a fresh start, away from all the madness that had been the aftermath of the defeat of Voldemort. They remained in Canada for five years until Harry hadn’t been able to resist the urge to return to London any longer, his need to be around Hermione and Ron, his two best friends in the whole world, too great to ignore.

Since his return to London and much to his own amusement Harry had come to find that Draco Malfoy made the front pages of _The Prophet_ even more often than he did. Malfoy had apparently studied law and had become a gifted prosecutor for the Wizengamot while Harry had been on a mission to find himself in big cold Canada.

Harry couldn’t help but smile. The man sitting in that armchair by the window, nose buried in thick stack of papers, and a smutch on his cheek from the inky Muggle pen did not at all look like the menacing prosecutor everyone, especially the newspapers, said he was.

 _Fiendfyre in the Courtroom_ was one of the titles, _The Prophet_ had given Malfoy, _Loose Cannon_ had been another. Harry allowed himself another look and decided that this Draco Malfoy did not look the least bit menacing.

 _I should know_ , Harry thought, _you, Malfoy, can look very menacing when you want to_.

Hm, no, the Draco Malfoy he was looking at right now looked like a tame tabby cat and with his curiosity sparked, Harry moved towards the entrance of the coffee shop, walked in, and approached the counter. He ordered himself a large, black filter coffee, paid, picked up his order and headed over to where Malfoy sat.

“Malfoy, fancy meeting you here,” he spoke, lifted his coffee to his lips and took a careful sip of the hot beverage.

Malfoy instantly looked up from his paperwork, appearing genuinely surprised, though Harry thought there was a tiny trace of annoyance shimmering in his eyes. Malfoy masked it quickly enough and Harry did not dwell on it. Instead, he watched as Malfoy reached for his own coffee, which appeared to be a cappuccino, then waited as Malfoy took his sweet time to return the greeting.

“I could say the same about you, Auror Potter,” he acknowledged Harry.

A tiny smirk appeared on his face and as Malfoy held Harry’s gaze, it morphed into a bigger one. There wasn't a trace of their petty Hogwarts rivalry in Malfoy’s voice, which, considering their history, was a bit odd but most definitely a pleasant change. It was obvious that they had both grown up enough to leave their teenage squabbles in the past. Harry decided he would like a chance to get to know the real Draco Malfoy.

“Harry will suffice, I’m not working today.”

Harry flashed him a lopsided grin and boldly took the liberty to sit down on the empty chair across from Malfoy, who shot him a curious look.

“You’ve grown a pair of balls,” he eventually said and Harry laughed, really laughed.

“If The Prophet is to be believed, so have you, Malfoy, so have you,” Harry grinned.

“I see you have developed a taste for sitting amidst Muggles on your day off,” he noted casually.

The mere fact that Draco Malfoy, snobby Pureblood extraordinaire, was hanging out in a Muggle coffee shop in Muggle London was a solid testament of how much he had changed since they had last spoken. It had been the day Harry had given testimony on behalf of the Malfoy family, sparing Draco and his mother a long sentence in Azkaban.

“I can’t remember the last time I had a day off,” Malfoy sighed, put his papers down next to his coffee cup on the small table between them and stretched luxuriously and cat-like.

Harry gave him an appreciative once-over.

The last eight years had without a doubt been kind to Malfoy. He had always been tall, but he was no longer the lanky teenager he had once been. He had most definitely filled out a little, in all the right places too, and Harry quickly raised his coffee cup to hide the fact that he felt the need to lick his lips. Malfoy’s languid stretch had revealed a small patch of pale skin just where his charcoal grey trousers and his dark-blue long-sleeved shirt met and it was a delicious and rather remarkable sight.

“Doesn’t sitting in a coffee shop constitute as a day off?” Harry asked to distract himself from ogling Malfoy.

 _Get a hold of yourself, Potter_ , a little voice in his head reprimanded him, _you’re usually so good at it_.

“Hm, no. I fled the office, I do so most days. Can’t hear my own thoughts with all that noise going on, not even a super-strength silencing charm will get you a moment of peace.”

Harry frowned.

“I can’t imagine a coffee shop being any quieter.”

“I can ignore that mindless babble, it’s all just frivolous chatter about relationships, make-up and the latest films anyway. What’s a bit more difficult to ignore is the chaos in the prosecutors’ chambers. Always something or other going on, never a quiet minute, people barging in and storming out, utter madness,” Malfoy shrugged and reached for his coffee.

 _I bet I could make you ignore it,_ Harry’s treacherous mind supplied but he silenced that thought immediately and blamed it on the fact that he had only just dropped Stefan off at his new Dom’s flat. He pointedly refused to acknowledge that Malfoy’s rather fit build had anything to do with his ill-placed, wandering thoughts.

“Why not _Black Magic_ , then? It’s a lot closer than Notting Hill,” Harry wanted to know, referring to that hip new coffee shop that had opened on Diagon Alley several months ago. Malfoy raised an amused eyebrow at him.

“I thought you weren’t working today, _Auror_ Potter? Why the interrogation?” he teased, placing special emphasis on Harry’s title.

It sent a pleasant shudder of arousal down Harry’s spine but he easily controlled it with a single breath and a casual sip of hot coffee.

“Just curious,” he shrugged.

He noted the way Malfoy looked at him, with a mixture of amusement, curiosity, and an easy playfulness that Harry hadn’t seen before but rather liked. He also noted the once-over Malfoy gave him and smirked into his coffee. He had chosen a pair of tight black jeans, a burgundy button-up shirt and a matching black denim jacket this morning and he could tell that Malfoy approved of his attire, was perhaps even impressed, although he did not comment.

“ _Black Magic_ uses spells to work the coffee machines, I find it tampers with the taste. I prefer coffee made the Muggle way, _Harry_ ,” Malfoy eventually answered and Harry found Malfoy’s casual and unexpected use of his first name a mild turn on.

He knew better than to act on it though, for the time being anyway. It continued to fuel his interest in Malfoy and he decided he wanted to get closer to his former Hogwarts nemesis, wanted to get to know the young man he’d become, rather than the person he had once been.

“I admit, you have a valid point.”

“I’m a lawyer, I always make valid points,” Malfoy smirked and winked.

He lowered his head slightly to focus on his notes and Harry momentarily lost himself in the beautiful sight of Malfoy, head bend over his paperwork in a most casual form of unconscious submission; submission to his work but submission nonetheless.

Harry leant back in his comfortable chair and silently watched while he slowly sipped on his filter coffee. If Malfoy ever noticed him watching, he never said a word and they did not speak again until Malfoy finished reading several pages, made a few side notes and then stood to stretch once more.

“I need another coffee. You?” he offered and Harry nodded and motioned to the empty cup in front of him.

“Since you’re offering, filter coffee, black, no sugar, no milk,” he said and Malfoy nodded in silent acknowledgement, then headed off to the counter. Harry watched his retreating form, closed his eyes, and sighed.

Damn, why did Malfoy have to be so damn hot?

He knew he had always been rather obsessed with all things Draco Malfoy but it was only now that he slowly began to connect the dots. Having spent seven years looking over his shoulder, trying to avoid a megalomaniac, power-hungry wizard, intend on murdering him, hadn’t left him with much time to indulge in self-discovery. While in Canada, he had had plenty of time to deal with a few demons, get over the lingering trauma of the war and give free reign to his desire to be _Just Harry_ , instead of the _Boy Who Lived Twice_.

It had been enlightening in many ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I listened to a whole lot of music while writing this mammoth story and ["Dark In My Imagination by "of Verona""](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gVzXzLytbb0) was one of the tracks that was often on repeat when I needed to channel Dom!Harry.
> 
> Of course, a whole lot of other music was also on repeat (still is, in fact) and I'd like to share some of it with you, maybe you find something that brings out your submissive or Dominant side... So without further ado, let me offer you a small selection of my favourite BDSM tunes.
> 
>  **LPK Playlist ( _in no particular order_ ):**  
> ["Artic Monkey - I Wanna Be Yours"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fJLQCf4mFP0)  
> ["Meg Myers - Desire"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bR5u9jb0PJE) (the explicit version!)  
> ["Muse - Undisclosed Desires"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R8OOWcsFj0U)  
> ["Bill Withers - Use Me"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EZldnP0lhHA)  
> ["Afrojack ft. Eva Simons - Take Over Control"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=adGVpCsf9N4)  
> ["Pale Saints - Kinky Love"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kk4FF5huCo4)  
> ["Jesse Cook - Fall At Your Feet"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PGkR8FXq1aQ)  
> ["Demi Lovato - Body Say"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jca0B2lbqpU)  
> ["Ella Henderson - Yours"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CAjKZJarlwk)  
> ["Astrid S - Hurts So Good"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4fqwVBuunxY)


	2. Lunch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)  
> 

* * *

Nearly a month later, after exchanging several memos a day with none other than Draco Malfoy, Harry found himself apparating out to Notting Hill during his lunch break to run an errand. Draco had unexpectedly turned him down for a pre-arranged lunch and the rejection had rather stung.

For reasons he wasn’t sure he was willing to admit to himself just yet, he had acted on impulse when he had decided to grab takeaway lunch for Draco and himself.

He was willing to admit, though, that he thoroughly enjoyed Draco’s sass, his sharp humour, and his clever brain. He was a refreshing breeze of air in Harry’s life and Harry rapidly found himself getting rather addicted to their daily conversations. While they mostly communicated via owls and inter-department memos, they had managed to meet for coffee twice and their stimulating conversation had left him craving more of Draco.

He wasn’t quite sure whether they had, over the last month, managed to become friends or whether their relationship was heading into a different direction altogether, but Harry wasn’t in the mood to question a good thing. Besides, the fact that Harry now thought of him as Draco, rather than _Malfoy_ , was a huge testament to how much his opinion of one Draco Malfoy had changed since they had connected.

Harry had so far learnt that Draco was currently single and rather fancied the male gender. Apparently, he had done so since his fourth year at Hogwarts, though he had only come out to his parents after the war. Lucius Malfoy, serving a life sentence in Azkaban, had, in a fit of anger, denounced him as a son but his mother had supportively stood by him and they were now closer than ever.

Harry also learnt that Draco’s interest in all things law had stemmed from years of access to an impressive collection of books at Malfoy Manor and while he hadn’t returned to Hogwarts to get his NEWTs, he had put his head down and taken the necessary tests via owl post.

At the same time, he had prepared to get his degree in Magical Law.

Then, to redeem the Malfoy name, he had worked as a public defender for the Wizengamot. It was an unpaid, under-appreciated position but Draco had given it his all and soon enough the Director of Prosecutions had taken an interest in him and hired him on the spot.

Realising he was still standing in the alleyway he had apparated into, Harry shook himself out of his reverie and made a beeline for Draco’s favourite coffee shop, where he ordered two beef sandwiches, two fruit salads, a cappuccino, and a strong, black filter coffee to go.

Feeling bold enough to bend the rules, he stealthily cast a wandless warming charm as well as a Stasis Charm on the paper bag. Wrapped-up food and two takeaway cups of coffee in hand, Harry headed back to the apparition point and returned to the Ministry's Atrium.

Once again glad that his position as an Auror meant he was exempt from the Anti-Apparition wards the Ministry had in place, as well as wand checks, he headed straight for the prosecutor’s chambers. On his way there he carefully balanced his and Draco’s coffees, making sure not to spill anything over his pristine robes, or anyone else for that matter, as he wound his way through the throng of wizards and witches.

The moment he entered the department, he realised two things; one, that he had never been inside the prosecutor’s chambers before and two, that Draco had been right.

He found it strange that Aurors were, seemingly, never invited to the prosecutor’s chambers but that the prosecutors always came up to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement whenever they required an Auror’s testimony for a case.

The cacophony of noise, and complete chaos all around the place finally helped Harry to understand why Draco regularly fled his office. He had most definitely not been kidding when he told Harry why he preferred to do most of his work, or at least the work that required a high level of concentration, in a coffee shop instead of his private office.

Harry took a deep breath, and even though he really wanted to cover his ears, he forced himself to ignore the noise and the chaos. He strode through the big open-plan office, his scarlet Auror robes billowing behind him, and headed down the short corridor and straight to Draco’s office. The door was wide open but Harry was courteous enough to knock anyway. Draco, who had been staring out of the enchanted window behind his desk, turned around and Harry couldn’t help but note how the rather pained expression on Draco’s face softened a little.

“Harry,” Draco smiled, looking genuinely pleased. “What brings you here?”

“A hardworking prosecutor who refused my lunch invitation, citing too high a caseload as grounds for not eating,” Harry grinned, entered the room, and casually kicked the door to Draco’s office shut. He drew his wand, pointed at the door, and cast the most powerful silencing charm he knew.

The noise outside the office instantly faded away and Draco’s eyes widened with surprise at the sheer power of Harry’s magic.

A second later, however, his surprise was gone.

Instead, he looked most grateful.

Harry couldn’t help but think that there were other ways he could make Draco feel less bothered about all the noise in his department.

He resolutely pushed the thought aside, walked up to Draco’s desk, and placed the takeaway bag right on top of Draco’s neatly arranged papers. It seemed to be the only desk in the entire department that was devoid of clutter and Harry rather liked it.

“Lunch,” he said, slumping into a chair in front of Draco’s desk. He threw one leg over the other, then raised an eyebrow at Draco, who had yet to move from his spot by the window.

“Draco, sit, eat, please,” Harry said, trying his best to sound inviting rather than authoritative and after a moment of hesitation, Draco nodded, sat down in his chair, and revealed the purchases inside the bag. The scent of fresh coffee resulted in a blissed-out expression on his face and it instantly sent Harry’s mind into overdrive.

He distracted himself with accepting his own coffee when Draco handed it to him. Not bothering to even take his food out of the bag, he watched Draco instead.

Draco had forgone his sandwich in favour of unenthusiastically picking at the fruit salad and shoving several grapes into his mouth. Harry clicked his tongue and when Draco looked at him, he shook his head disapprovingly.

“What?” Draco asked with a half-amused, half-confused expression.

“Proper food first,” Harry pointed towards the sandwich and Draco’s gaze followed his finger.

“Certainly, Auror Potter,” Draco grinned and, ignoring the fruit salad, he unwrapped the freshly toasted beef sandwich Harry had bought him. Harry’s heart skipped a small beat and he bit the inside of his mouth to hide a triumphant smile.

“Exquisite manners,” Harry winked and Draco rolled his eyes at him but continued to eat his lunch.

“When are you accepting that Head Auror position then, Potter? You’re bossy enough for the job.”

“Cheeky,” Harry said, thoroughly amused. “I have it already, they’ll announce it in June,” he added and Draco’s eyes widened, then filled with glee over the fact that Harry had just made him privy to some very juicy Ministry gossip.

“You’ll—” Harry started but Draco cut him off.

“I’ll keep my mouth shut, not to worry. Your secret’s safe with me,” Draco said and Harry smiled. Strangely enough, he had no doubt that Draco wouldn’t share the news with anyone before Kingsley Shacklebolt made the official announcement in two months’ time.

They fell silent and Draco continued to eat, while Harry enjoyed his office. Halfway through his third bite, not that Harry was counting, Draco stopped and, tilting his head sideways, frowned at Harry. “Are you just going to sit there and watch me eat?”

“Maybe,” Harry shrugged, feigning nonchalance. He eyed the takeaway bag that still contained his food and sighed. He’d enjoyed a rather late breakfast and didn’t feel hungry at all. For now, coffee would suffice.

“You, Harry Potter, are a very strange man,” Draco shook his head and continued eating until a red inter-departmental memo floated into his office and landed on his desk. Harry watched him diligently wipe his hands with one of the napkins, then he reached for the memo and unfolded it. Upon reading the memo, Draco’s eyes widened, his hands began to shake and his breathing became faster as he shot off his seat and hastily pulled on his prosecutor’s robes.

Harry thought that he looked a bit like a headless chicken, though he knew better than to voice his thoughts. Draco was dashing around the office, gathering up a bunch of files here and there, then sprinted towards the door. He already had his hand firmly on the handle, ready to drag the heavy wooden door open, when it seemingly occurred to him that he wasn’t alone in his office. He turned, hesitated for a moment, and stumbled over his words as he mumbled something, Harry didn’t quite catch, then disappeared from his office at the speed of light.

Harry stared after him for several moments and, slowly rising to his feet, he reached for that inter-departmental memo. For a moment, he wanted to unfold and read it but his inner Gryffindor prevented him from invading Draco’s privacy like that and instead of satisfying his curiosity, he put the memo down again, grabbed the takeaway bag and left Draco’s office.

Aware that he couldn’t spend his break in an empty office in a strange department, Harry returned to his own office in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He ate his own lunch in a sour mood and sulked through a large pile of mind-numbingly boring paperwork.

Several hours later the arrival of a purple inter-departmental memo, folded into the shape of an origami bird, resulted in a rapid improvement of Harry’s rather rotten mood. He watched it float into his office and land on his desk, immediately unfolding it to reveal Draco’s, by now familiar, beautifully slanted handwriting and the delicate drawing of a hyacinth. Harry did not miss the subtle connection and meaning behind the colour of the paper and the flower. He rather appreciated Draco’s subtle apology and thought that it had style.

> _Harry—_
> 
> _Apologies for dashing off like that._
> 
> _The opposition moved up a rather important deposition._
> 
> _Lunch, tomorrow?_
> 
> _My treat._
> 
> _Draco_

Harry chuckled and reached for a yellow memo paper. Ministry guidelines stipulated the use of yellow memo paper for important communications only, however, Harry decided that the memo’s vibrant colour radiated happiness and had a distinct _apology accepted_ feel to it. As he reached for his favourite Muggle fountain pen, Harry smiled and made the impulsive decision to be bold.

> _Draco,_
> 
> _You’re forgiven._
> 
> _Let’s make it dinner on Friday instead._
> 
> _7 pm, ok?_
> 
> _Harry_

Several minutes later a white inter-departmental memo appeared on Harry’s desk and he unfolded it with a silly grin. The note contained no signature, but Draco’s handwriting was obvious.

> _Is this a date?_

Harry stared at the message for a few moments, then resolutely rose to his feet and made his way to the prosecutor’s chambers for the second time that day. Compared to earlier, the department was a lot quieter now, but it still easily qualified as the loudest department in the entire Ministry, or so Harry thought. He found Draco’s office door open, casually leant against the doorframe and when Draco looked up from his paperwork, Harry waved the white memo in a silent greeting.

“Yes,” he answered Draco’s question, pretending to be braver than he felt.

Draco looked at him, trying to read him and Harry allowed some of the nervousness he felt to shine through.

Draco smiled, waved him into the room. Harry obliged and walked right up to the desk. Draco stood, snatched the memo out of his hand and bend over to write something underneath his question. Harry watched with mild amusement and a growing sense of fondness. Once Draco held the memo out to him, Harry took it but not without purposefully brushing his fingers against Draco’s. He noted the slight tremor that surged through Draco but said nothing about it. Instead, he unfolded the message and smiled at the words. His heart fluttered a little.

> _~~Is this a date?~~ _
> 
> _Since you confirmed that it’s a date, you may pick me up at Chepstow Place in Notting Hill at 7pm on Friday._

“I shan’t be late,” Harry said softly and locked eyes with Draco.

They stared at each other for several minutes and Harry noted the way that Draco’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard and fought not to break their eye contact but lost that battle of wills. Harry didn’t know if it was the nerves that made Draco look away first or whether he did it for another reason, but it did wondrous things to him.

 _Sweet Merlin, don’t do that to me_ , Harry thought desperately and, tightening his grip on the memo, he pushed down the strong urge to tell Draco to look at him in a way that would make it utterly impossible for him to refuse.

 _Another time_ , he chastised himself, cleared his throat and instead told Draco that he would see him on Friday.


	3. Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)

* * *

Friday evening found Harry, after turning his wardrobe upside down several times, on Draco’s doorstep in Notting Hill, nervously waiting for him to open the door. After a long debate with himself and the unresponsive floor-length mirror in his master bedroom, Harry had chosen a pair of neat black slacks, a dark-green cotton button-down shirt, and a black suit jacket to fend off the evening chill.

In his hand, he anxiously toyed with a single yellow rose tipped in cherry and brick tones. It had been a last-minute purchase and Harry still wasn’t sure what had made him do it. He had felt like he should present Draco with a small token of his appreciation but no matter how enthusiastically he had racked his brain, he had come up empty. Upon passing a small florist on his way to Draco’s flat, he had made the impulsive decision to purchase a flower to subtly convey exactly how he felt about their first date.

When Draco, after a short two-minute wait that felt like forever to Harry, finally opened the door, he all but thrust the rose at Draco who gave an amused laugh. It sounded like music to Harry’s ears, and he did not hesitate when Draco invited him into his beautifully decorated two-storey flat. Draco had told him before that he lived in a Muggle flat but seeing it for himself for the first time was quite different to merely having heard about it.

While Draco conjured a small vase, filled it with water and, placing the rose inside, found it a home in the centre of the coffee table, Harry took a casual glance around the place. The entrance hall opened into a spacious living room with large windows, tastefully decorated with a big, comfortable corner sofa. Harry imagined that the windows provided plenty of light during the day. As he had expected, the furniture was exquisite and the style modern and elegant. Overall the entire place had a distinctive homely feel to it.

Harry was, however, much more interested in Draco and when his eyes settled on the handsome man, he was about to take out for dinner, he momentarily forgot to remember how to breathe. Draco had chosen a pair of snug-fitting charcoal-grey cotton trousers and a light blue long-sleeved shirt, over which he wore an elegantly-cut spring cardigan that accentuated his fine figure.

Draco’s white-blond locks looked like he hadn’t styled them at all, yet Harry was sure that Draco had probably spent at least an hour preparing his hair. He couldn’t help but wonder whether Draco’s hair felt as soft as it looked. Harry swallowed hard and fought against the almost irresistible urge to push Draco up against the wall and kiss him senseless.

 _Not on a first date_ , Harry restrained his overactive imagination with a firm thought.

Taking a small step towards Draco, Harry noted that he smelled of bergamot and oak-moss. It was a subtle yet seductive scent with a discreet tone of sweet blackcurrant and it made Harry’s head spin.

“Where are we going tonight?” Draco asked and Harry was all kinds of grateful for the distracting question.

He watched as Draco gracefully, and with a sort of practised ease, stepped into a pair of black Oxfords. Instead of bending down to tie the shoelaces, Draco reached for his wand, pointed it at his shoes and mumbled a quick spell, then holstered his wand inside his cardigan.

“Surprise,” Harry cleared his throat, remembering to answer the question. It wasn’t really but he wasn’t sure whether he was able to string a coherent sentence together. Thankfully, Draco didn’t seem to mind Harry’s unplanned secretiveness.

“Hm, side-along then. You’re in charge, Potter,” he stated matter-of-factly, though there was a cheeky glint in his eyes.

Harry really wished he hadn’t just said that and momentarily struggled to rein in his mind, which was unhelpfully supplying a series of images of just what he could do with Draco if allowed to take charge. He ignored them all and instead pulled the door to the flat open and motioned for Draco to step out first.

“Harry Potter, when did you become the perfect gentleman?” Draco teased and Harry rolled his eyes at him. “The clothes are impeccable too, it’s like I don’t even know you,” he added with a smirk.

“For your information, I always had manners,” Harry answered, pointedly ignoring Draco’s compliment about his improved sense of dressing, even though it made him feel funny.

A good kind of funny, but funny nonetheless. He had stopped wearing his cousin’s hand-me-downs the day he, Andromeda, and Teddy had moved halfway around the globe. Dressing well was second nature and he really couldn’t remember the last time he had worn anything that wasn’t snug-fitting or, on occasion, tailor-made.

He enjoyed good clothes, it had become one of his weaknesses, and these days most of his platonic lady friends, including one Hermione Granger, preferred to go shopping with him rather than their own husbands. It was a silent testament to how much he had changed since the war and what an excellent decision leaving Britain had really been.

“Could’ve fooled me, Potter,” Draco laughed, stepped past Harry, and locked his flat with an ordinary Muggle key.

“No magic?” Harry asked curiously, intentionally disregarding Draco’s playful dig, although it did make him want to smack his arse. He never used a key to lock and unlock Grimmauld Place, the updated wards on the house responded to his magical signature and his alone.

“Mother was rather shocked when I insisted on buying a place in Muggle London and upon her first visit, she promptly put quite effective wards on the place. They activate when I leave the place,” Draco explained and Harry nodded.

They quietly walked down the few steps that led to the building’s front door and once outside, they found a dark alleyway and Harry offered his arm to Draco. Draco accepted without the slightest hesitation and closing his eyes, Harry pushed any thoughts about how good Draco’s touch felt firmly aside and focused on their destination instead. The last he wanted was for either one of them to end up splinched and in St Mungo’s brand-new Magical Accidents & Emergencies Department. A moment later they disappeared into thin air and reappeared in a darkened alleyway in the district of Shoreditch, relatively close to their intended destination.

As he led Draco out of the alley, Harry tried hard not to let the fact that Draco hadn’t let go of his arm distract him. The butterflies in his stomach fluttered excitedly and he enjoyed the soft pressure of Draco holding on to his biceps. Not sure what to say he silently guided Draco down Great Eastern Street until they reached number forty-six.

The place had once been a former iron factory, which the owners had redesigned into a hip, kinda rustic but classic Muggle restaurant that spread out over three floors. Following his return to London, it had quickly become Harry’s favourite place for eating out, though tonight was the first time ever he entered the _Iron Bloom_ with a date on his arm.

Upon giving his name to the maître d'hôtel, she brought them to a private table, built right into what had at some point been an old furnace. She patiently waited for them to take their seats, then handed them two menus and disappeared only to reappear a moment later with a carafe of lime-and-mint-flavoured still water. Harry thanked her politely and she informed him that their waiter would be by shortly to take their order.

“This place is something else,” Draco smiled over the top of the menu and Harry reciprocated with a smile of his own.

“A good something else?” he asked, pleased when Draco nodded.  
  
“How did you find it?”

“A friend’s recommendation,” keeping the information that his favourite BDSM club often held its munches at this very restaurant and the fact that he had chosen it simply because it made him feel comfortable firmly to himself.

“You must have expanded your circle of friends then, I highly doubt Ronald Weasley recommended the place,” Draco chuckled and Harry glared half-heartedly.

“If you must know, Ron and Hermione had their wedding reception here.”

“No doubt because you recommended the place,” Draco laughed and with an overly dramatic eyeroll, Harry turned his attention towards the menu and pushed the image of putting Draco over his leg and spanking him for his insolence right out of his mind. Instead, he allowed the section of the menu, titled “ _This Is Mine, Mine Only_ ” to distract him.

Well, to a certain extent anyway. He sneakily cast a longing glance at Draco and allowed himself a moment to fantasise about how nice it would be if _Draco Malfoy_ was an option to choose from under that very section of the menu. The realisation that he had it _bad_ for Draco hit him hard and as he repeatedly reminded himself that this was only their first formal date, he tightened his hold on the menu. Any bold attempt to claim Draco for himself would most likely result in Draco running into the other direction.

They both perused the menu in silence and when their waiter approached several minutes later, Harry gentlemanlike motioned for Draco to order first. He did not miss the faint flush that pinked Draco’s cheeks but did not comment on it either. Instead, he thought it endearing and made a point to pay close attention to Draco’s order.  
  
“I’d like the Asparagus and Spinach Soup with Stilton Cheese in an Edible Bowl, please,” Draco replied when the waiter asked him about his starter and unexpectedly chose a Veggie Burger with a side of Roquette and Parmesan Salad as his main course, along with a glass of Baccolo Bianco Appassimiento from Italy.

“What about a dessert?” the waiter inquired and after a moment’s hesitation, Draco made another unexpected choice.

“Black Sticky Rice Pudding with Vanilla Ice-Cream and Raspberry Sauce, please.”

“Excellent choice,” the waiter complimented and turned his attention over to Harry, who ordered a Charred Watermelon Brisket with Feta Cheese as his starter and the Wagyu Beef and Bone Barrow Burger with Bacon and Cheese with a side of Truffle and Parmesan Fries as his main course. To drink, he ordered a glass of a whiskey-based cocktail with the strange name of Scotch & Steak. He resolutely passed on the dessert and not even the waiter’s tempting suggestion of Dark Chocolate Pudding with fresh Strawberries and Cream could change his mind.

“You could have ordered that dessert, I would totally eat it,” Draco pouted a little when the waiter left with their orders and their menus.

Harry raised an inquisitive eyebrow, poured them both a glass of water and took a sip from his own glass before commenting.

“If you want a second dessert, you can order one,” he said casually, amused over the fact that Draco apparently had a secret sweet tooth.

“I’m not going to order a second dessert, Harry,” Draco declared with a firm frown.

“Why? Scared I’ll judge you for your impressive sweet tooth?”

“I’m not scared of you, Potter,” Draco scoffed.

 _I bet I could make you_ , Harry thought but said something entirely different.

“Then why make me order a dessert I’m not going to eat just so you can have it?”

Draco laughed and his eyes twinkled with amusement.

“Why, to save face, of course. Ordering two desserts, well that’s just greedy. Stealing your date’s dessert is,” Draco paused, clearly seeking for the right word, “acceptable.”

“Is it now?” Harry asked with an arched eyebrow, thoroughly entertained by Draco’s logic. “How come I never heard of this dating rule?”

“Probably because you don’t date much?”

Draco’s voice remained low but rose on the last word, subtly turning his statement into a question. It did not go unnoticed and Harry smirked, looked at Draco across the table and resisted folding his arms across his chest in a superior gesture. Instead, he took another sip of water and toyed with a napkin, folding it into a swan.

“Two,” he offered, answering Draco’s veiled question. “Neither one of them here in Britain,” he added and Draco nodded in silent understanding but before Harry could throw the question right back at Draco, their waiter approached with their drinks and starters.

They didn’t talk much since Harry was far more interested in ogling Draco than he was in his starter, which he picked at with enough enthusiasm to let Draco believe that he was enjoying the food.

Draco, on the other hand, seemed thoroughly enamoured with his starter and divulged a startling bit of information about himself, namely that he knew how to cook and was rather apt at it too but found little time to do it.

“How about you cook next time?” Harry suggested without thinking and Draco slowly consumed two spoonfuls of soup, before he answered Harry’s question.

“We haven’t even had our main course yet, and you’re already thinking about a second date? Are you so sure our first one will be a success?”

“I’m not, but I’m very much hoping that it will be,” Harry purposefully lowered his voice to a seductive whisper and held Draco’s gaze until the urge to reach across the table and take his hand became too great to resist. Only then did he avert his eyes and refocusing his attention, he ate a little more of his food.

“Hm, you might not be alone with that hope,” Draco admitted rather sheepishly after a long moment of silence during which they both finished their starters. Well, Draco finished his, Harry left a few bites on the plate.

When the waiter approached to collect their plates, Harry informed him that he had changed his mind about the dessert and placed an order for a dish of dark chocolate pudding with fresh strawberries and cream. Draco’s eyes widened at his gesture and he went to say something but Harry shook his head and, closing his mouth, Draco picked up his glass of white wine and offered a silent toast. Harry reached for his whiskey-based cocktail and they gently clinked glasses. Unable to take his eyes off Draco, Harry stared at him, resolutely suppressed the urge to get up, lean across the table, cup Draco’s chin with his hand and kiss him. He did, however, nudge his foot under the table.

Draco gave him a lopsided grin and their conversation slowly flowed towards lighter topics. By the time their main courses arrived, Draco was animatedly sharing anecdotes from his time as public defender and Harry shared a bit of information about the six years he had spent in Canada. Draco couldn’t quite comprehend how he had managed to survive Canada’s arctic winters and piles upon piles of snow.

Harry, in return, couldn’t help but provide Draco with vivid descriptions of the snow fights he and Teddy had enjoyed and how life somehow slowed down in the winter but never stopped entirely. He divulged that he had become rather skilled at ice-skating and had even taken up skiing.

By the time their desserts arrived, Draco was hell-bent on visiting Canada and unable to resist the temptation, Harry promised he would take him someday.

“Don’t make promises you might not be able to keep,” Draco said rather wistfully and Harry sensed that there was a story behind that pensive expression on Draco’s face but was too much of a gentleman to ask. Instead, he sincerely reassured Draco and made it abundantly clear that he had meant what he had said.

“I’m not in the habit of making promises I don’t follow up on, Draco,” he said, lowering his voice a little.

This time it wasn’t a seductive whisper but rather an assertive assurance, meant for Draco’s ears and Draco’s ears alone. He wasn’t entirely sure which part of his brain had made him jump the gun and promise Draco a holiday in Canada — _on their first date no less_ — but even without contemplating the matter, he knew he had meant his words. The thought scared him though, and Harry decided that he needed to distract himself. He watched Draco for a while and delighted in the way that Draco appeared to thoroughly enjoy his dessert.

Feeling rather cheeky, Harry reached for his own dessert spoon and scooped up a mix of dark chocolate pudding, a bit of cream and a piece of strawberry. He offered it to Draco, who smiled, leant forward, and parted his lips just enough to accept the offered dessert. As his lips gently closed around the spoon, Harry’s heart skipped several beats and he swallowed hard.

“Merlin, Draco, don’t do that to me,” he whispered and Draco’s eyes widened.

He chewed the piece of strawberry Harry had offered him, swallowed the spoonful of dessert, and slightly tilted his head to the side and smiled.

“Do what?” he asked brazenly, his voice a little lower and a little huskier than before.

Harry could practically sense the air crackling around them and withdrawing the spoon, he reached for his drink and took a large sip of it to calm his nerves.

“Eat like that,” Harry then said and a low chuckle erupted from somewhere deep in Draco’s throat.

Harry shuddered, the sound was delectable and he wondered what other sounds—

 _No_ , he harshly censored himself, refusing to allow his mind to indulge in the fantasy.

“Let’s level the playing field, shall we?” Draco suggested and promptly offered Harry a spoonful of his own dessert. Harry hesitated for a moment, then leant forward and accepted the offered sweet treat.

As his lips closed around the spoon and the sticky sweetness filled his mouth, he realised that he couldn’t remember the last time he had let anyone feed him. To his utter astonishment, he also realised that he rather liked it.

Swallowing the bite, he motioned for the waiter and ordered another _Scotch & Steak_ for himself and another glass of white wine for Draco. For his own sanity, he absolutely needed them to stay somewhere where there was a table between them. Right this very moment, Harry didn’t think anyone could hold him accountable for whatever he might do if he and Draco were to leave the restaurant and find themselves in a secluded corner somewhere.

Draco was, and Harry had not a shred of doubt about that, pure sex on legs, yet he was so utterly casual about it, that it drove Harry beyond wild.

Once the waiter had left, Draco frowned at him.

“You didn’t even ask if I wanted another drink,” he grumbled and Harry resolutely bit back the natural response that was on the tip of his tongue.

“I decided to take the liberty,” he answered honestly, holding Draco’s piercing gaze. When Draco eventually surrendered with a shrug, Harry smiled.

“Hero complex, I suspect,” Draco mocked him and continued to eat his dessert.

Harry did not offer him another spoonful of his own dessert but once Draco had finished his black sticky rice pudding with vanilla ice-cream and raspberry sauce, Harry casually exchanged their plates and acted as though he had already finished his sweet course while Draco had barely started on his own. Draco’s cheeks pinked a little bit and with a smile and a wink, Harry took a casual sip of his drink.

Their conversation returned to their jobs, though this time they spoke about a few cases Harry had worked on and solved as well as how the prosecutor’s chambers had handled the case on their end. Somewhere along the way, Harry topped up their drinks and before they knew it the waiter reminded them that it was late, just shy after eleven and that the restaurant was closing. Harry settled the bill and as they left through the front door, he casually offered Draco his arm.

Draco accepted and they strolled down Great Eastern Street until they found a quiet corner suitable for apparition. Harry brought them both to Kensington Gardens in Hyde Park and they wandered towards the Round Pond in amicable silence.

Harry exercised an impressive amount of self-control, ignored his treacherous mind which repeatedly suggested that kissing Draco would be a really good idea and by the time the clock struck one, he dutifully apparated them both onto Draco’s doorstep, bid him goodbye and voiced his interest in a second date, then disapparated before he lost the ability to keep his hands to himself.


	4. The Munch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)

* * *

Swiftly making his way through Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Harry skirted around a group of excited teenagers that kept chanting his name and although it rather annoyed him, he still found it in him to smile and wave politely.

 _Keeping up the pretence_ , he thought and gave himself a proverbial pat on the back for his ability to deal with his fame professionally, instead of growling at anyone who wanted a piece of him.

Getting to the back of the multi-storey shop took longer than expected, and when the door to Ron’s and George’s workshop finally fell closed behind him, separating him from the shoppers, he felt just a little relieved.

“Anyone stop you for autographs?” Ron teased from across the room and Harry rolled his eyes.

“Bunch of young girls almost did, but I managed to avoid them…for now,” Harry replied, crossed the room and, leaning back against Ron’s messy workbench, he surveyed all the different bits and pieces with mild curiosity.

Inside Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, things were never quite as they seemed and so he didn’t even attempt to try and make sense out of what his best mate was presently working on. Instead, he handed Ron an inconspicuous-looking brown parcel and grinned when Ron flushed with embarrassment.

“Your toys, you kinky slut,” Harry grinned lopsidedly and laughed when Ron spluttered, reached for the package, and hastily stuffed it into his holdall.

It almost seemed that the mere idea of leaving the package on his desk — _even though it didn’t give anything away about its contents_ — was causing Ron great discomfort. While Harry could understand the mortification Ron felt, he failed to see the need to be _this_ distressed about one’s kinks.

 _Each to their own_ , he thought. He could hardly force Ron to own up to his kinky bedroom fantasies if he didn’t want to.

Harry had to take a moment to remind himself that getting pleasure out of Ron’s obvious embarrassment wasn’t very nice, but try as he might, he couldn’t control his inner bastard.

Then again, his and Ron’s sexual preferences truly were on opposite ends of a spectrum. Whereas a pair of leather bondage cuffs and a charmed dildo were enough to properly fluster Ron and nearly send him running for the hills, it took a hell of a lot more to unsettle Harry.

At that thought, Harry paused for a moment and tried to think of something… _anything_ that might unsettle him. He drew a blank. It made him realise, yet again, that when it came to kinks there wasn’t anything that could really unnerve him. There were a couple of fetishes that properly grossed him out, but even those did not manage to unsettle him and they most definitely did not manage to fluster him. He had heard it all before.

“Tha—thanks,” Ron stammered, face still flushed, only barely able to meet Harry’s gaze.

“It’s just a sex shop, you know?” Harry chuckled softly, he found Ron’s discomfiture almost endearing.

“Nobody at _Pleasure_ is going to judge you for buying a pair of bondage cuffs or a dildo or whatever else you might want to surprise your wife with, you know?” he tried, yet again, to convince Ron that there was absolutely nothing mortifying about visiting a sex shop to purchase a couple of fun accessories.

By Circe, Harry had purchased far worse than a pair of bondage cuffs and a dildo, two items which he considered to be completely vanilla. He could not understand why Ron had no qualms to ask him for sex toys, but completely refused to go near a sex shop, even when Harry had offered him an iron-clad glamour to disguise himself.

In response to Harry’s gentle persuasion, Ron turned crimson and stammered something half-incomprehensible about needing to use the bathroom before storming off and slamming the door behind himself. Harry laughed, crossed his arms over his chest and pondered Ron’s closeted bondage kink for a moment.

When his treacherous mind provided him with a very much _unwanted_ image of a tied-up Hermione, Harry felt his face heat up and he did not need a mirror to tell him that he was blushing like a fourth-year Hogwarts student trying to get a date for the Yule Ball. With a shudder, he realised that there was indeed something that could fluster him. It was the thought of sitting across from his two best friends at their dinner table and knowing exactly what they got up to in the privacy of their bedroom, no thanks to Ron’s inability to grow a pair of balls and visit a sex shop like most normal people did.

“Merlin, save me,” Harry mumbled to himself, sighed, and, pushing away from the workbench, he left the workshop, strode across the shop, and waved to George, who was leaning over the second-floor bannister to greet him. He was about to leave and head over to Shoreditch when the swarm of young girls from earlier accosted him by the door and begged for his autograph.

Harry resigned himself to his fate, though not without blaming Ron for it all, signed six _Defence Against The Dark_ Arts spell books — _what was it with female witches having him sign books he hadn’t written?_ — and made up an excuse of having to get back to work, before leaving the shop hastily.

He strode down Diagon Alley, headed through the Leaky Cauldron and out onto Charing Cross Road where he ducked into a dark alleyway and apparated halfway across London to Great Eastern Street. A short walk later, he found himself heading into the same restaurant he had taken Draco to some two weeks prior. He made his way up the iron staircase to a private room on the third floor. The door stood wide open in a welcoming gesture and stepping inside the spacious function room, Harry casually greeted a couple of familiar faces but did not linger to strike up a conversation. He headed over to where Caleb was sitting at the head of the table, two hands wrapped around a large mug of coffee.

“ _Oi_ , Reid, where’s my coffee?” he greeted Caleb with a friendly dig, reached for a pen, and signed his initials on the sign-in sheet with a lazy flourish. Pulling up a chair, Harry sat down and smiled at Stefan, who sat near Caleb, happily munching on a slice of crunchy toast.

Caleb raised an eyebrow at him and pinned him with his piercing blue eyes. It was a silent challenge and Harry instantly rose to the bait. In all the years he had known Caleb, he had never lost a staring match against him and he wasn’t about to start now.

 _Bring it on_ , he thought.

“The universe in which _I_ serve _you_ , Potter, does not exist and will never exist,” Caleb eventually replied and out of the corner of his eyes Harry noted Stefan trying, but failing, to hide an amused chuckle. Stefan’s unrestrained delight earned him a hard glare from Caleb that was all bark and no bite. Stefan stared back in mild defiance, then lowered his head and continued eating his toast as if nothing at happened between him and his Dom. Somehow, Harry didn’t think his protegee would end up punished for his impertinence.

“It’s called manners, Reid,” Harry rebuked with a grin and getting up he moved over to the open buffet, poured himself a large cup of coffee and grabbed a banana.

Coffee cup in hand, Harry returned to the table, peeled his banana, and took a large bite of it. Still chewing, he reached for a name tag and a black Sharpie and wrote his first name down, before sticking the name tag above his left shirt pocket.

“The way you’re eating that banana, I suggest you might want to reconsider where you just put that sticker, _Harry_ ,” Caleb teased him and, rolling his eyes, Harry drank his coffee, leant back in his chair, and threw one leg over the other.

“There’s only one reason you’re this insolent. Played to your heart’s content last night, didn’t you, Reid?” Harry laughed and Caleb’s eyes twinkled with a healthy dose of mirth.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he winked and Harry grinned knowingly.

“I can imagine,” he said and glanced over at Stefan.

It had been a little over six weeks since he had left Stefan in Caleb’s capable hands and by the looks of it, the two were getting on splendidly. Judging by the way Stefan kept sneaking glances at Caleb, whenever he thought his Dom wasn’t looking, their mutual attraction didn’t seem limited to play time but had effortlessly flowed over into real life. The affection in Stefan’s eyes wasn’t just the admiration a submissive felt for his Dom, but that of a young man on the verge of falling in love with a gorgeous, outgoing, successful, and confident hunk of a man.

Hm, yes, Caleb was a very lucky man indeed, and so was Stefan.

Biting back a sigh, Harry took another sip of his coffee, then glanced around the room. He didn’t allow himself to think about Draco, didn’t allow himself to lose himself in thoughts about their budding romance and firmly tried to stay in the here and now. So far, nearly thirty people had turned up for Caleb’s munch and everyone appeared to be having a good time.

Harry noted several unfamiliar faces, undoubtedly newbies to the scene, though even they were slowly starting to warm up and join into conversations. The good food, strong coffee and relaxed atmosphere certainly helped. Try as he might, Harry’s attention began to drift and he momentarily lost himself in a fantasy, a fantasy of bringing Draco to one of these munches, of introducing him to the scene, of taking him to meet other submissives and Doms, of encouraging him to learn about different kinks and fetishes, of making friends with like-minded people.

Snapping out of his day-dreaming, Harry rose to his feet, refilled his coffee cup, and decided to mingle with the crowd instead. He briefly chatted to Elisabeth, an experienced slave, and learnt that she and her Master had parted ways. It had been an amicable separation but Harry could tell that Elisabeth was still trying to get over the breakup. He offered a few words of comfort and she gave him a grateful smile, before politely excusing herself and making her way over to a sweet-looking young woman with short brunette hair. She seemed rather lost, nervously twisting her fingers as she looked around the room and Harry was grateful to see Elisabeth taking an initiative to make the girl feel welcome.

Feeling in the mood to snack, Harry helped himself to a small coconut and raisin muffin from the buffet and casually joined a group of about five people. He didn’t actively join into the conversation, but listened and watched attentively. When addressed, he politely answered the questions posed to him and helped to move the conversation along when the group found themselves stuck.

After a while, Harry casually slipped into the background. He lingered near the now ajar door and leaning back against the wall behind him, he let out an inaudible sigh.

His thoughts drifted back to Draco and their last date. Draco had invited him to his flat, had offered to cook for him but Harry hadn’t felt bold enough to spend an evening alone with Draco and had taken him to a restaurant instead. He had wanted to accept the invitation, wanted to be alone with Draco, quite desperately so, but for the first time in years, he didn’t trust himself to be able to control his urges.

He wanted to pounce on Draco, wanted to push him against a wall, wanted to trap him between the unforgiving concrete wall and his body, wanted to stare deep into his eyes and then claim his mouth, kiss him hard, show him who was in charge, touch him everywhere, until Draco was a quivering, moaning, pleading wreck—

“When did you last play?” Caleb asked.

Harry pulled himself together and turned his head to look at him. He swallowed hard and judging by the look on Caleb’s face, Harry knew he had been staring into space with the expression of a hungry lion, desperate to find prey.

“Does training Stefan count?” Harry asked quietly and shoved both his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

Caleb shook his head.

“Five months, give or take a couple days,” Harry admitted, taking a deep breath to try and calm his frazzled nerves and his racing heart.

Caleb raised a surprised eyebrow at him and he looked away, and stared out of the window at a large acorn tree across the road.

“Do you want me to find you someone?” Caleb offered quietly and this time it was Harry’s turn to shake his head. His answer surprised him and even though he really wanted to play, wanted to relish in taking control, he simply knew that he wasn’t in the right frame of mind to give a submissive the attention and care he or she needed and deserved. He knew he could force himself to try, to try and enjoy, but he knew he wouldn’t.

Ever since their chance encounter, and especially since their first proper date, Harry couldn’t get Draco out of his mind. He was truly smitten. He couldn’t remember ever having felt this way about another person and it scared him. He wanted Draco so badly that it physically hurt him. He had nearly wanked himself raw in the last few weeks.

“Potter, I’m talking to you!” Caleb snapped and startled him a little. Harry caught himself and focused his attention on Caleb, who was looking at him with his piercing blue eyes and he felt exposed, truly exposed.

“You’ve got it bad, Harry,” Caleb’s voice softened a little but Harry still flinched when he placed a hand on his forearm and squeezed gently.

“Do I know him?” he asked.

Harry shook his head, swallowed, swallowed again, and cleared his throat.

“He’s not— he isn’t— I mean— oh, _fuck_ —!” Harry growled in frustration and Caleb squeezed his forearm a little harder. He dug his nail into Harry’s exposed skin and the sharp pain grounded Harry a little. He took several slow, deep breaths and seriously felt like crying. He blinked the unshed tears away, sighed and went to remove Caleb’s hand from his arm, but his friend did not let go and Harry did not fight him over it.

“He’s not in the scene, he doesn’t know that you like to dominate and it’s all been very vanilla,” Caleb summarised with a knowing smile and Harry nodded, seeing no point in denying the obvious. “How far has it gone?”

“Not far,” Harry mumbled, “two dates, a couple informal chats over coffee before that— daily memos at work.” Harry paused, squeezed Caleb’s hand, and relaxed a little more. Caleb loosened his grip but did not let go and Harry was grateful. “We’ve got history, it’s all a bit complicated. We’ve known each other since we were eleven. I nearly killed him once, too.”

Caleb’s eyes widened at that last confession and Harry sighed, thinking he probably shouldn’t have shared that fact about him and Draco. There was just something about Caleb that made it sheer impossible to lie to him, not that Harry had ever intentionally wanted to lie to him. His and Draco’s duel in sixth year still weighted heavily on his mind, especially now that they had reconnected and even more so now that they had discovered their mutual attraction.

 _He would never let me take charge, not after what I did to him in that bathroom_ , Harry thought bitterly and his heart twisted painfully in his chest. He desperately wanted to broach the subject with Draco but he didn’t want to upset him and didn’t even know where to begin, how to apologise, how to make it all go away. He wanted to know if his stupidity had left Draco with lasting scars but that question seemed even harder to ask than trying to work up the courage to apologise.

Seemingly sensing his inner conflict, Caleb offered a piece of unsolicited advice.

“You’ve got it bad, really bad, Harry. If vanilla is what you want to do for him, if you like him enough to go there, if you want him that bad and think you can control yourself, go for it, let him sweep you off your feet.”

Harry went to reply and was about to try and find the right words to explain to Caleb that he didn’t know if he could control himself if he could let go and just be a vanilla-version of himself when a choked sob reached his ears. His eyes widened in surprise and he frowned at Caleb.

“ _Red_ — _red_ — _red_ — help, please, _red_ —” the distressed and choking pleas of a woman in a panic reached his ears and Harry did not need to say anything to know that Caleb had heard it too, had heard the use of the most commonly used safe word within the kink community.

Harry’s entire body stiffened and drawing himself up to his full height, he pulled the door to the function room open and stepped outside, Caleb hard on his heel. Down the short corridor, near the female toilets, he spotted a woman, firmly trapped between a menacing-looking brute, who had his hands wrapped around her throat and was choking her as she clearly struggled to get away, crying, weeping, begging for him to stop. It did not look like consensual play, it looked like a vicious attack and storming over to the couple, Harry roughly separated the brute from the young woman, who sank to the floor and began to shake and sob uncontrollably.

Harry firmly, and without the least bit of compassion, restrained the stranger and, glancing behind him, he looked at Caleb for help. He did not have to ask. Caleb instantly stepped in and locked the stranger’s arms behind his back in a trained vice-grip. The stranger yelped and hissed a bunch of profanities, which Caleb ignored entirely. Instead, he tightened his grip, purposefully caused the stranger enough pain to make his knees buckle and give in.

“She said _red_ , you piece of shit!” Caleb growled and Harry watched as he expertly continued to restrain the stranger with one hand while the other found its way to the guy’s neck. He forcefully yanked it backwards and squeezed with his arms, intentionally choking the man, who tried and failed to struggle free.

“You like to choke innocent women, do you now? Into breath play, huh? Let me show you what it feels like to choke, to feel the air leave your lungs and not be able to get more! Scared? You fucking should be, because I’m going to ruin you, you scum!”

For a moment, Harry wondered whether Caleb was losing control, was taking things a little too far, but when another Dom appeared at the door, clearly intrigued by the commotion. Caleb merely turned his head and issued an order.

“Call the police, I’ll deal with this filth until they get here. Nobody gives _my_ munch a bad taste.”

The Dom at the door nodded, pulled out his mobile phone and Harry watched Caleb drag the stranger off into the direction of the men’s bathroom. Focusing his attention on the woman, Harry crouched on the floor and gently reached out to place his hand on her shoulder.

She flinched, stared up at him with a horrified expression on her face and, sitting down, Harry made a soft shushing sound to try and calm her.

“It’s all right, I’m here, I’m not going to hurt you, you’re safe, you’re safe here, I’ll take care of you,” he whispered and pulled her into his arms.

She resisted and Harry loosened his hold until she relaxed and willingly sank into him. Only then did he firmly wrap his arms around her and held her tightly against his chest as she sobbed heartbreakingly. Her entire body trembled and she clutched at Harry’s clothes as though he was her lifeline, as though she might drown if he let her go. Her tears quickly soaked through his shirt. Harry tightened his hold on her, gently rocked her and whispered sweet nothings into her ear. He tried to make out her name but her long blond hair obscured her name tag.

“Shush, sweet girl, it’s all right, you are safe, I’m right here, I’ll keep you safe, sweet angel,” Harry mumbled, aware that his excessive use of pet names was probably not all that appropriate for a complete stranger, but it seemed to calm her a little and as long as it made her feel better, Harry wasn’t about to stop.

“Ssshhh, darling, he’s gone, Caleb took care of him, he can’t hurt you, he’ll never touch you again, I promise, you’re safe,” Harry soothed, petting her hair ever so gently. He focused completely on the girl in his arms, on making her feel better.

It took nearly twenty minutes before she slowly began to calm down and her sobs ebbed away.

Another few moments later and she made a startling confession, one that had Harry’s blood boiling, one that made him tighten his hold on her, made him draw her into his arms and promise her that nobody would ever do anything bad to her.

When the police arrived, Caleb, after flashing his ID card that identified him as the Battalion Chief of the British Fire Brigade, personally roughly moved the stranger, into a police car. Harry, on the other hand, used gentle persuasion to coax the young woman in his arms, Cynthia, into giving a formal statement to a female officer of the law. With that done, Harry resolutely cancelled his plans for the afternoon, suggested that Cynthia refreshed herself in the bathroom and subtly cast a wandless cleaning spell to clean and dry his shirt.

When Cynthia finally emerged from the ladies’ bathroom, she looked a lot more presentable, although her eyes were still bloodshot and she hadn’t been able to entirely remove her smudged makeup. Gently taking her by the hand, Harry popped his head into the function room, where Caleb was busy doing his best to appease everyone who had attended the munch. He waved Elisabeth overand unceremoniously informed the two ladies that he was taking them shopping on Oxford Street for the afternoon. Elisabeth suggested that Bond Street was a much better destination and Harry gave her an affectionate slap on her behind.

“You do realise that you doing this isn’t going to make me regret what I just said, right?” Elisabeth teased him and Harry fixed her with an icy stare, which she did not submit to because the grin that was tugging on the corners of his mouth entirely ruined the effect.

“Naughty minx,” Harry said with a low voice and she winked at him.

“You love it, _Sir_ ,” she mocked him and with an eyeroll, Harry nudged her towards the stairs.

“Go, or I’ll change my mind, leave you tied up to the bannister and take Cynthia to Bond Street,” he laughed and Elisabeth opened her mouth with the clear intention of making a comeback when Harry gave her a pointed look that instantly shut her up. They had never been an item and he wasn’t interested in dominating her in any way but their friendship was a playful one and they enjoyed teasing each other whenever they met and Elisabeth wasn’t in a relationship with anyone.

“Don’t mind her, she’s got a potty mouth,” Harry turned to Cynthia and she gave him a weak smile.


	5. The Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)

* * *

Two weeks later Harry, despite his initial apprehension, found himself in Draco’s flat, casually leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed over his chest. He watched with rapt attention as Draco prepared their dessert. Dinner had been a culinary experience and Harry’s mind was still reeling from the multitude of flavours Draco had thrown together.

He had diligently prepared a delightful Thai-themed dinner. As a starter, he had served them a Tom Yum soup and despite the mild late-spring, early summer temperatures the soup had warmed Harry’s insides pleasantly. It had had just the right mix of lemongrass, ginger, and Thai chillies. The fresh, plump shrimp, straw mushrooms and fresh cilantro had given the soup the perfect edge. The main course, a vegetarian Thai Green Curry, which Draco had served with steamed jasmine rice, had been spicy, aromatic, sweet and savoury all at the same time. For dessert, they had seemingly returned to Europe, for Draco was preparing two small bowls of vanilla, strawberry, and chocolate ice-cream with an assortment of fresh berries.

“Draco Malfoy, I would have never thought I’d ever see you this comfortable in a kitchen,” Harry teased and, uncrossing his arms, he braced himself on the kitchen counter behind him and swallowed hard when Draco brought the spoon to his mouth and licked it suggestively.

“Stress relief,” he shrugged. “I found that it relaxes me.”

“You have talent,” Harry smiled. “The dinner was perfect, thank you.”

Draco flushed a little at the praise and Harry really wanted to gently place his hand on Draco’s cheek, stroke it tenderly with his thumb and tease that sweet, sensitive spot of skin just behind and under his ear, then draw him in for a slow, heartfelt kiss.

He resisted the urge, smiled at Draco, and whispered another compliment.

“You are gorgeous.”

Draco flushed a little more. To hide his obvious embarrassment, he hurriedly busied himself with returning the package of ice-cream to the icebox. Pulling a nearby drawer open, he took out two spoons and handed one to Harry.

Feeling rather cheeky, Harry instantly dipped his spoon into the nearest bowl of ice-cream, gathered a mix of vanilla, strawberry and chocolate ice-cream and offered it to Draco, who hesitated for a moment but eventually parted his lips just far enough for Harry to feed him a spoonful. The way Draco’s lips closed around the spoon and his eyes fluttered as the treat cooled his mouth was nearly too much for Harry, who had to bite his lip to fight back a moan.

He took a deep breath, calmed his overexcited teenager brain, which was trying to tell his cock that getting hard was a very good idea, and eventually managed to compose himself. He, however, could not resist the temptation to pay Draco another compliment, and Draco rewarded him with the sweetest blush Harry had ever seen.

“You eating dessert is just purely indecent,” Harry sighed and a warm chuckle bubbled up from the depths of his throat.

 _Hm, you like that, don’t you, me making you compliments_ , Harry thought excitedly.

“I can’t help it, I love sweet things,” Draco confessed with a look of complete innocence and Harry shuddered.

 _Pull yourself together, Potter_ , he reprimanded himself and resolutely reached for his bowl, intend on putting a little bit of distance between him and Draco. He wanted to continue feeding Draco more ice-cream but he knew it wouldn’t end well, knew that he didn’t have that much self-control.

Instead, he walked over to the big living room window and looked outside. It was already dark and the streetlights threw odd shadows onto the road. He tried to focus on the scene, but failed, and shoved a large piece of chocolate ice-cream and two raspberries into his mouth instead, feeling frustrated with the situation.

It was a desperate attempt to calm himself, to stall what seemed to be inevitable, namely that he broke his resolve and made a move on Draco anyway.

He wanted Draco badly, wanted him with all that he had and then some, but for the first time in his life he was scared; scared of who he was and how he had chosen to live his life, scared of who Draco was and how little he knew, scared of their less than amicable history, and scared of the depth of his feelings for Draco.

There was extreme sexual attraction, and Harry could sense that Draco shared that sentiment, but there was also more. They both felt comfortable in each other’s company and Draco was a very stimulating conversationalist. He had opinions and he wasn’t afraid of sharing them, wasn’t afraid of making himself heard.

So far, Harry had not yet seen Draco argue a case in front of the Wizengamot, but whenever they talked and Draco got a little passionate about something or other, Harry could see his fierceness shine through. He liked it a lot, it was a massive turn on.

“Did I say anything wrong?” Draco asked, snapping Harry out of his thoughts, who turned away from the window and looked at Draco instead. He had walked over from the kitchen and wore a rather forlorn and confused expression on his face. Harry’s chest constricted painfully.

 _No, sweet darling, you could never say anything wrong,_ he thought and wanted to say the words so badly that he had to bite his tongue before responding.

“No, absolutely not, I just have a little something weighing on my mind.”

 _It isn’t even a lie_ , Harry mused.

“What is it? You seemed rather flirty just now,” Draco pushed and Harry sighed.

Setting his dessert down on the windowsill, he took a deep breath and gathered every ounce of his stupid Gryffindor courage.

“Sixth year,” he said quietly and heard Draco breathe in sharply.

Harry hated himself for the fact that he had brought up their ill-fated duel in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom in a desperate attempt to keep himself from pouncing on Draco and ravishing him. He had been thinking of how to broach the subject with Draco, it was the only thing they hadn’t discussed yet.

“I was wondering when you were going to bring that one up,” Draco sighed and, stuffing another spoonful of ice-cream into his mouth, he set his own dessert bowl down on the windowsill right next to Harry’s.

Clenching and unclenching his fists, Draco slowly pulled his grey shirt out of his trousers, pulled it up a little and pushed the waistband of his trousers down a smidgeon. Harry sucked in a sharp breath and gasped when his eyes settled on a large scar that slashed right across Draco’s lower abdomen. It was a stark contrast to his otherwise unblemished skin and Harry itched to touch it, wanted to trace the uneven flesh, wanted to somehow make it go away, but resolutely kept his fingers to himself.

“Just the one, Harry, this one the Dittany didn’t heal,” Draco whispered and pushed his shirt back into his trousers.

Unable to stop himself, Harry reached out, took Draco’s hand, and interlaced their fingers. He pulled him a little closer, ran his fingers gently through his hair and caressed Draco’s cheek with his thumb. Draco ever so gently pushed into the touch and Harry fought the urge to lean in and press his lips against Draco’s. He wanted to kiss him so badly that his entire body hummed with the desire to do so, but he firmly restrained himself and withdrew his hand from Draco’s cheek. He circled his thumb over the back of Draco’s hand.

“I’m so sorry, Draco, I should have never cast that spell, not knowing what it did.”

“I forgave you a long time ago, you don’t need to apologise.”

“I do need to apologise, it’s only right that I do.”

“In that case, thank you…and apology accepted,” Draco smiled.

Feeling his resolve weaken a little, Harry pulled Draco into a tight hug, which Draco reciprocated. They stood like that for several minutes, just hugging and Harry closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, thoroughly delighting in that familiar scent of bergamot, oak-moss and sweet blackcurrant that was so uniquely Draco.

“I like you a lot, you know,” Draco whispered and Harry really wanted to return the sentiment but the words would not leave his mouth. Draco withdrew slightly from the hug and with his face only inches away, Harry was fighting a battle he was rapidly losing. Draco leant in a little and Harry could tell that he was asking for a kiss, a kiss he so badly wanted to give.

Harry lost himself in Draco’s clear grey eyes and stared into them for the longest time while his entire body throbbed with the desperate need to lean in, to close the small gap between their lips, to taste Draco, to claim his sweet pale-red lips in a passionate kiss.

 _Me too, I like you too, I like you so much, sweet, sweet darling, you have no idea,_ his mind screamed and the air around them crackled with the anticipation of the obvious.

When Draco cleared his throat and parted his lips, Harry quickly brought his hand up and placed a single finger across them, silencing Draco before he had the chance to say anything.

“Ssssh, just don’t,” Harry whispered, withdrew his finger, leant in a little closer and exhaled slowly. His breath tickled Draco’s lips and Draco’s eyelids fluttered as if he couldn’t decide whether to keep them open or not.

“Close your eyes,” Harry murmured and after a moment of hesitation, Draco obeyed. Harry swallowed hard, blinked, and placed the gentlest of kisses on Draco’s lips. It was a barely-there ghost of a kiss and he lingered for only a few seconds, then pulled back and drank in the sight before him. Draco’s chest was rising and falling rapidly, his face flushed, and his lips slightly parted. He looked breathtakingly beautiful and Harry’s heart hammered in his chest as he tried to keep his composure, as he fought against the urge to push Draco against the wall beside the window, to trap him there and to kiss him until they were both breathless and Draco was begging him for more, begging to be stripped and made love to in the sweetest way possible.

Resolutely pulling away, Harry took a step back, interlaced their fingers, and pulled Draco into the centre of the living room. His eyes fell onto Draco’s Muggle stereo and his impressive CD collection.

“I want to dance with you,” Harry smiled and Draco’s eyes widened.

“You don’t dance, Harry Potter,” Draco said and Harry laughed.

“That was well over a decade ago.”

“Are you going to step on my feet?” Draco teased and Harry gave him a reproachful look.

“Draco Malfoy, zip it.”

“Yes, _Sir_ ,” Draco mock-saluted and Harry quickly turned his back on him, wondering how he was supposed to keep his composure when Draco was quite literally playing with fire, unwittingly begging to be—

Harry resolutely cut himself off right there, he did not want to go there, did not want to finish that thought.

 _If only you knew_ , Harry thought and perused Draco’s CD collection instead. He found something suitable soon enough and, inserting the CD into the player, he chose the first track and turned the volume up a little before making his way back to where Draco was still standing, waiting for him.

> ### _I have never been the type to try and grab the spotlight_  
>  _We were at a revel with some rebels on a hot night_  
>  _Laughin’ at my sister as she’s dazzling the roo_  
>  _Then you walked in and my heart went “Boom!”  
>  __Tryin’ to catch your eye from the side of the ballroom  
>  __Everybody’s dancin’ and the band’s top volume_ ###

“You, Draco Malfoy, are certifiably gay, you own a collection of Broadway Classics,” Harry laughed, reached for Draco’s hand, pulled him close, snaked his arm around Draco’s waist, and pulled him flush against his body.

Draco gasped. Harry laughed again and spun them both, rather effortlessly around the room.

“Who are you and what have you done with the real Harry Potter?” Draco shrieked but made no attempt to withdraw from the dance.

“I am the real Harry Potter,” Harry winked, lifted his unruly fringe, and exposed his lightning bolt-shaped scar to Draco.

“You, Harry Potter, are a very strange man,” Draco shook his head, then threw it back and laughed in a way Harry had never seen or heard him laugh.

It was almost a manic laugh, completely unrestrained and carefree.

“Why thank you for the compliment, you’re not so bad yourself, Draco Malfoy,” Harry smiled, slowed their dance a little and pulled Draco a little closer.

“Helpless, yeah, look into your eyes, and the sky's the limit, I'm helpless, baby, down for the count, and I'm drownin' in 'em,” Harry sang along, fixed his eyes on Draco’s, and watched, mesmerised, how Draco suddenly seemed to breathe just that little faster.

 _Hm, so sexy_ , Harry mused and was glad when the song sped up a little and he could resume spinning Draco around the room until they were both dizzy and laughing and giggling.

Eventually, the song faded out and since they were both breathless, they slumped down on the comfortable large white corner sofa. Leaning back into the cushions, Harry inhaled deeply and turning his head to the side. He looked at Draco, who seemingly sensed Harry’s eyes on him and turned his head to look at him. Their eyes locked and Harry sighed.

“Gosh, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, reached for Draco’s hand, and tugged ever so gently but insistently enough for Draco to get the message.

“C’mere,” he urged and Draco scooted closer, until he was sitting right next to Harry, their thighs pressed against each other.

Reaching out, Harry stroked his thumb over Draco’s cheek and leant forward. He gently eased Draco further into the cushions, leant closer still and captured Draco’s lips in a maddeningly slow kiss. His fingers trailed up his arm, the touch featherlight and he swallowed the low moan that escaped Draco’s lips.

Sorely tempted to deepen the kiss, to push his tongue into Draco’s mouth, to explore, to claim, to own, Harry fought to keep things light, to keep his composure.

Running his fingers through Draco’s soft, silken hair, he kissed Draco, sweetly and softly, like he was Harry’s most precious possession, a treasured prize, a rare relic.

Although he desperately wanted to, Harry never once added his tongue to the mix and when he pulled away, Draco’s eyes were nearly black with desire and lust and pure unadulterated want.

Harry resolutely pushed himself off the couch and sighed.

“I should go,” he said firmly, although he absolutely did not want to leave.

“Stay,” Draco whispered, looking up at him from under lowered lashes and Harry swallowed hard and shook his head.

“Just a little longer,” Draco pleaded. Harry had to take a moment to keep it together.  
  
“Not tonight, Draco,” he insisted and took a step back before he could change his mind.

Merlin, he wanted to, he wanted to stay more than anything else in the world.

“It’s not a good idea.”

Draco nodded, seemingly respecting Harry’s boundaries and getting off the couch, he smiled.

“I’ll walk you to the door.”

“That would be lovely,” Harry nodded and once in the entrance hall, he slipped into his shoes and put his light jacket on. He hesitated for a moment, fought the temptation to kiss Draco again but instinctively knew that if he was to give in, he wouldn’t be able to control himself, wouldn’t be able to stop at just a kiss.

So instead, he drew Draco closer, tenderly ran his fingers through Draco’s hair and then leant in to place a gentle kiss on Draco’s cheek.

“Sweet dreams,” he whispered, then left resolutely.


	6. Maddening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)

Once he stood outside Draco’s flat, Harry closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He looked at his shaking hands and shuddered, unable to comprehend how Draco had that much of an effect on him. Not only was his heart racing and his head pounding, no, he was also painfully hard and badly wanted to turn around and kiss Draco senseless.

He wanted to walk Draco backwards up the stairs to his bedroom, wanted to strip him down to his birthday suit, push him onto the bed and kiss every inch of his body, give him the most incredible blowjob and then fuck him so maddeningly slow that Draco would have to beg for his release or go stir-crazy with want and lust and need.

 _I’m fucked_ , Harry thought, stepped into a dark corner and disapparated on the spot.

A second later he appeared in another neighbourhood in Notting Hill and, not even in the slightest bit bothered about the late hour, he entered Caleb’s building and pounded on the door.

The door opened and a sleepy-eyed, grumpy-looking Caleb stood at the door, wearing nothing more than a pair of boxer shorts. Unperturbed, Harry pushed past Caleb and headed straight down the corridor and into Caleb’s living room. There he grabbed a bottle of eighteen-year-old Glen Scotia, opened it, and, not bothering with a glass, he drank from the bottle. The strong liquor burned his throat and made his eyes water, but Harry didn’t care. He poured gulp after gulp of the expensive drink down his throat and only stopped when Caleb forcefully removed the bottle from his grasp and placed it out of his immediate reach.

“Mind telling me what the fuck is going on before you’re too pissed to string two words together?” Caleb asked and Harry looked at him and laughed. It was a maniac, almost crazed laugh. Harry sighed with exasperated frustration and ran his fingers through his messy hair.

“I kissed him, I fucking _kissed_ him!” Harry exclaimed, looking up at Caleb with wide eyes. He felt as high as a kite, having overdosed on a mysterious drug called _love_.

He swallowed hard and Caleb sighed, grabbed a blanket from the nearby sofa and covered himself with it. When he used gentle force to direct him onto the sofa, Harry did not resist, instead he simply melted under Caleb’s ministrations. Letting out a breath he hadn’t even been aware he had been holding, he sank into the comfortable cushions dotted around the sofa.

When Caleb pushed a tumbler of the scotch, he had taken off him minutes before, into his hand, Harry mumbled a quiet _thank you_ and swallowed half of the drink in a pathetic attempt to calm his nerves.

He felt all over the place.

Why was resisting Draco so hard? He didn’t want to resist him anymore, especially not now that he had finally tasted those lips.

_Merlin, those lips!_

Harry groaned inwardly at the mere thought, the mere memory. He wanted Draco with all his body and soul – and then some!

“I assume we’re talking about the guy you have the hots for, nearly killed once, and who has no clue about your penchant for kink?” Caleb asked and Harry did not like the wicked, sly smile that ghosted around Caleb’s lips, _no_ , he did not like it one bit. He was, however, too worked up to really care about it.

“That would be the one,” Harry nodded, emptied his glass, and held it out to Caleb, silently asking for a refill.

Caleb took the empty glass from him and pointedly ignored his request.

“So, you kissed him, big deal, Potter. Grow a pair. Was it good?”

“Good?” Harry frowned, surprised at the sound of his own voice. It was off, it was too high. It sounded almost like a shriek. “I don’t think I’ve ever experienced a more perfect kiss,” he sighed. “It was flawless, the man knows how to use his lips.”  
  
“What exactly is the problem then?” Caleb wanted to know. “You obviously need counselling, so spit it out already before I decide to flog it out of you.”

Harry laughed. It was hollow and mocking.

“You wouldn’t dare, Reid.”

“Don’t tempt me, Potter,” Caleb chuckled and weirdly enough the amused twinkle in his eyes calmed Harry’s frazzled nerves a little bit.

He took a deep breath and launched into a detailed explanation of his dinner date with Draco. He told Caleb all about how Draco had made such an extraordinary effort with the food and how they had shared dessert. He described in minute detail how he evaded Draco’s first attempt at asking for the kiss and how they talked about their past, how Draco confessed his feelings, how they kissed and danced and kissed some more and how Harry didn’t know how to control himself around Draco because Draco seemingly knew how to push all the right buttons.

He was convinced that Draco knew exactly how to play right into his hand, knew exactly how to behave to drive Harry wanton with lust and awake the strong desire to protect him, care for him, and rob Harry of all his senses.

Somewhere along his lengthy play-by-play of the evening he had spent in Draco’s company, he kicked off his shoes and pulled his legs up onto the sofa. Caleb wordlessly handed him a refill, and, slowly sipping on his scotch, Harry patiently waited for Caleb to digest everything he had heard and offer some advice. He was about to get nervous and push for Caleb to say something when Caleb did just that.

“Sounds to me like you are half in love with the man, Potter,” he said and laughed quietly while Harry growled in frustration.

“Is that all you have to say after everything I just told you?”

“What else would you like me to say? What else _is_ there to say? You two got a bit of history, so what? Seems to me like you managed to sort that one out all right. Also seems like the guy worships the ground you walk on and if you can’t keep your hands off him, well then don’t. Safe, sane, consensual, whether there’s a kink involved or not,” Caleb’s advice was blunt, as always, and Harry felt like he had just been slapped right in the face with a couple of home truths.

“I—” Harry started but Caleb firmly cut him off before he could continue.

“So, you prefer to take charge in the bedroom, enjoy restraining your lover and just generally get up to some kinky shit. Your Draco bloke is damn lucky if you ask me. Even if he’s only had vanilla sex until now, there are so many ways you can take charge and show him a good time, so many ways in which you still get to please your kinky little heart without sending him running for the hills. Fucking hell, Potter, you have been part of the scene for years, you’re not a bloody beginner, you’re an experienced Dom with an amazing reputation and more self-restraint than all those dunderheads in my firehouse put together.”

“But—”

“But what, Harry? What? What exactly are you afraid of?” Caleb put him on the spot, staring him down. For a while, Harry remained unwaveringly still, defiantly holding Caleb’s gaze, then sighed and surrendered.

“I don’t think I can restrain myself around him,” he admitted quietly. “He’s got my head spinning, got me feeling dizzy, it feels like I’ve got my head under water whenever he’s around. He’s always been my worst distraction, _always_ , from the first day I met him.”

“Well then don’t,” Caleb shrugged. “Don’t restrain yourself, don’t hold back, pull him into your arms, kiss him senseless, make love to him until he forgets everything but your name. Why are you overthinking things?”

“I don’t know, I—”

“Well, I do, Potter because it’s written all over your face. You’re _in love_ , plain as simple.”

“I’m not in love with him!” Harry spluttered and looked at Caleb with utter indignation.

 _Some friend you are, you backstabbing bastard,_ he thought angrily.

“Won’t take much longer,” Caleb said with a kind of nonchalance that infuriated Harry even more, mainly because deep down he knew that Caleb was telling the truth. He had always been able to see right through him.

There wasn’t much that fazed Caleb and Harry admired his patience and complete self-control. As a teenager, Harry had always been somewhat of a hothead, but he had long since calmed down, in part because he no longer had to look over his shoulder and run from a megalomaniacal Dark Lord, and in part because he had grown up.

He had, however, never felt like this before, had never felt this strongly about a person, had never spent every waking minute thinking about someone, wanting someone, and it quite frankly scared him. He couldn’t get Draco out of this head and he couldn’t stay away either. He didn’t even want to try. A part of him kept pulling him towards Draco and it felt like they were meant to be and another part of him kept trying to tell him to stay away, lest he scare Draco. It was maddening and he felt like he wanted to tear his own hair out just to give him something to do to distract him from the rollercoaster of emotions he couldn’t get a handle on.

“Let me show you something,” Caleb smiled and his words had the desired effect: they stopped Harry from giving in and hyperventilating.

Caleb rose to his feet and reached out to take Harry by the arm. He mutely got up and followed Caleb out of the living room and down the corridor. They made their way upstairs to the second floor, up to Caleb’s bedroom. Harry frowned but said nothing.

Instead, he watched Caleb push the door to the master bedroom open and step aside. When Harry’s eyes fell on the sleeping form of Stefan, curled up in Caleb’s massive bed, his jaw nearly dropped to the floor.

“He sleeps in your bed,” Harry whispered, unable to take his eyes off the beautiful young man Stefan was. He had spent three months training Stefan and in all that time he had, of course, seen him sleep, but he had never seen him sleep with such a content smile on his face. He appeared to be completely at ease, like he belonged right there, sleeping by Caleb’s side. Harry had enough experience to tell that Stefan’s smile wasn’t a remnant of a satisfying play.

“You never let any of your subs sleep in your bed,” Harry mumbled and tore his gaze away from Stefan’s sleeping form. He watched Caleb pull the door to his bedroom closed again.

“He’s different,” Caleb shrugged. “Found him in the kitchen one morning, wearing a pair of boxer shorts and my shirt from the night before. He was dancing around the place, making coffee, toast, and slicing fruits. I just stood there for half an eternity and at some point, something clicked in me. When he realised, I’d been watching him he was rather embarrassed, but that pretty blush just made me fall a little harder.” Caleb smiled and Harry thought that his cheeks had a faint pink flush to them. He wasn’t sure whether that was from the alcohol they had consumed or because Caleb had just confessed, he had fallen hard for his sub.

“So—” Harry paused, trying to digest what he had just seen and heard. “You’re dating then?”

“Yep, he may have a kinky submissive heart but he loves it when I take him out on a vanilla date, he’s such a sucker for it, melts my fierce dominant heart,” Caleb chuckled.

“You’re not playing, then?” Harry wanted to know and Caleb shrugged.

“Not really. We did one or two scenes in the last couple of weeks, but I’ve been too busy turning on the good old Reid charm to set anything up. He doesn’t seem to mind though. He submits without me making any demands. I throw an arm around him out on the street and he melts against me. If he was a kitten, he would purr nonstop. It’s enough for me, for now.”

“But you don’t date…” Harry said feebly. In the five years, he had known Caleb, he had never seen him in a serious relationship. He had been in serious Dom/sub relationships but none of these had included romantic love.

Harry frowned. He couldn’t understand. Caleb had seemingly changed overnight and it didn’t make any sense to him. Sure, he had noticed a mild change in the dynamic between Caleb and Stefan at the munch, but he hadn’t given it all that much thought, had just put it down to the way their Dom/sub relationship worked for them. This, Caleb’s confession, well, it put things into perspective, it changed everything.

“I was married before we met. Ten years. We’ve got a daughter,” Caleb sighed and Harry opened his mouth, an avalanche of questions on the tip of his tongue but Caleb raised his hand to stop him. “I’ll tell you about my ex-wife another time, I promise. Tonight’s not the night for _that_ conversation.”

Harry nodded and closed his mouth. He knew that Caleb kept all his promises. It was something he had learnt from his friend something that made him a better person, or so Harry thought. He had never been one to make a promise on a whim but Caleb had taught him the beauty of an honest promise and the amount of trust one could gain when one kept his word, always.

“This time was different, something about him, it drew me in, I just wanted more, so I went for it. Kink isn’t everything, you know. I wouldn’t want to give it up because it’s such a huge part of me but I wouldn’t sacrifice a shot at love for it either, Harry,” Caleb smiled.

“Stop overthinking everything and just let go. Fall in love, Potter, date, be silly, chase that man, give him everything you’ve got, wrap him around your little finger, draw him in, show him the time of his life. Who knows, he might be just as kinky as you are, and if he isn’t, if it’s something he absolutely doesn’t want to explore, well then you can still make a decision.”

“I don’t know what to say—” Harry sighed.

“The bastard in me wants to suggest that you should tell me that you’re leaving, but I’m not that a callous person. Take the guestroom, have a good rest.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. You know your way around the place, so make yourself comfortable. I've got a twenty-four-hour shift tomorrow, so I absolutely need to go to bed or I’ll be useless at work and if I’m useless my firefighters die.”

Harry glanced at his watch, realised it was nearly two am in the morning and looked rather apologetic. “You’re right,” he mumbled and Caleb laughed.

“I usually am,” he smirked and Harry rolled his eyes and showed him the finger before heading down the corridor to one of the guest bedrooms.

“I still think I should use you to break in that pretty new paddle I bought the other day,” Caleb teased. “Can you just imagine, that sweet red tinge, that hot stinging burn, you’d look so lovely squirming underneath my firm hand.”  
  
“Tom Riddle,” Harry uttered his safeword without batting an eyelash or turning around.

“Ah you’re no fun,” Caleb laughed. “One of these days you really have to tell me what this poor bloke did to you that you turned him into a safeword. Must have done a real number on you.”

 _Poor bloke, hm, not likely_ , Harry thought with a grimace, wanting to laugh at the irony of it all.

“Would have to obliviate you if I did,” Harry muttered under his breath, his voice too low for Caleb to catch anything of that. Bidding his friend good night, Harry opened the door to the guest room and disappeared inside. As he stripped out of his clothes, he suddenly found himself feeling extremely weary. He didn’t even bother with a trip to the bathroom.

Instead, he used a wandless cleaning spell to rid himself of the taste of alcohol in his mouth and clean his teeth.

He crawled into bed, lay on his back, pulled the summer quilt up to his nose, closed his eyes, and pictured Draco.

He pictured his teasing smile, his sweet laughter, his passion for his job, his incredible talent in the kitchen, his gorgeous body…

 _I like you a lot, you know_ , Harry replayed Draco’s tender confession in his head until he felt dizzy, until a rush of something threatened to consume him completely, threatened to drag him under. His thoughts drifted to their first kiss and the gentle kiss they had shared after their silly dance around Draco’s living room.

“I like you too, so, so much,” Harry whispered to the empty room and finally fell asleep, his mind filled with images of Draco.


	7. Controlled Fiendfyre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)

* * *

Gently pulling the side door at the back of the courtroom open, Harry slipped inside but remained standing in the back, half hidden in the shadows yet not completely out of sight. The court was already in session and the last thing he wanted to do was to draw everyone’s attention onto himself. He leant back against the wall and watched intently as one of the witnesses stepped up onto the stand and the judge allowed the prosecution to begin with cross-examination.

He saw Draco effortlessly rising to his feet, straightening his black prosecutor’s robes, and walking up to the speaker’s podium with a thick folder under his arm. He slowly placed the folder on top, lifted his wand and cast a _Sonorus_ charm to amplify his voice. He cleared his throat, sorted through his files and Harry thought that it was a deliberate tactic to make the witness squirm. He did have a bit of experience when it came to making people squirm, for various reasons. When he caught a glimpse of the look on Draco’s face, Harry knew that he had been right. He watched as Draco fixed his eyes onto the witness, stared him down, then posed a most innocent opening question. Harry smirked.

 _Go, get him, little dragon,_ he thought with amusement.

The witness hesitated, stammered his way through his answer and Draco chanced it and dived right in. For the next thirty minutes Draco held him in a verbal vice grip without the help of a single spell. His voice was unwavering, firm, steady and he had a comeback for whatever the witness had to say. He wasn’t overconfident but he was most definitely well prepared and it took Harry’s breath away. Draco dissected every single answer with minute precision, repeatedly verified timelines and just generally had the witness fidget on the stand as the man desperately tried to justify any discrepancies with his answers.

Draco did not fall for it, didn’t even rise to the bait. Instead, he straightened his back, crossed his arms over his chest, fixed his grey eyes on the witness, and stared him down.

“I think you’re lying, Peterson, and I also think that you know that you’re lying,” he eventually accused calmly and entirely unfazed. His cool aristocratic Malfoy-drawl sent jolts of pleasure down Harry’s spine and he found himself diverting more of his attention to his breathing in a pathetic attempt to control the way his body was reacting to Draco.

 _Damn, your smartness is beyond sexy_ , he mused and decided that he was on the verge of developing a kink for Draco’s resourcefulness.

Much to Harry’s astonishment, Draco paused and his eyes travelled around the courtroom. He spotted Harry and a sly smile ghosted around his lips. It was a barely-there kind of smile, but to Harry, it was blindingly obvious. He, however, didn’t hold Harry’s gaze but instead turned his attention back towards the witness.

“I think I’m going to request that the court charges you with lying under oath. A few days in our holding cells should clear your head and help you decide if you want me to charge you as an accessory to the fact, or if you would like to tell the truth and nothing but the truth,” Draco said, collected his files and returned to his seat with a flourish of his robes.

“The prosecution has no further questions for the witness at this point in time,” he addressed the judges before calmly sitting down, throwing one leg over the other and folding his hands on the table.

Deciding that he had seen enough, Harry was vaguely aware of the judges ordering the Court Aurors to hold the witness in contempt as he turned and slipped out the side door. He rested against the wall in the hallway and closed his eyes, then pressed his palms against the cool, tiled wall, tilted his head upward and breathed slowly and deeply.

 _You did a right number on me there,_ Harry thought to himself, astonished that watching Draco’s cool exertion of complete control over the situation had managed to properly put him on edge. A hot flush surged through him and Harry shuddered. He pushed himself away from the wall, wandered down the corridor and glanced at the Muggle watch around his wrist, realising that it was nearly lunchtime.

Certain that the court would recess for lunch in about half an hour, Harry headed for the Ministry’s Atrium, apparated straight to Draco’s favourite coffee shop in Notting Hill and splurged on a takeaway lunch for both him and Draco. Being an Auror absolutely had its benefits: no queuing for the Floo and unrestricted apparition within the Ministry. It was a perk Harry never ever wanted to give up.

He ordered two large coffees, one black, one a cappuccino, for them both, as well as a quinoa salad and a turkey and spinach wrap for Draco.

For himself, he ordered a beef sandwich and when he spotted his favourite dessert in the display, he asked for two large pieces of it along with a generous portion of warm custard.

With everything wrapped up and a Stasis Charm on the bag, Harry left the coffee shop, found a place suitable for apparition and returned to the Ministry. He strode through the Atrium and his feet almost automatically carried him up to the floor dedicated to the Wizengamot prosecution. He reached Draco’s office in no time.

As usual, the door stood wide open. Lifting his hand, Harry was about to knock to announce his presence when Draco turned around and they came face to face.

“Harry,” Draco smiled, “what a pleasant surprise.”

“Thought I’d treat you to lunch,” Harry grinned, and lifted the takeaway bag in his hand, showing it to Draco.  
  
“If I hadn’t you, I’d starve to death,” Draco said and Harry stepped into the office, casually kicking the door closed behind him. He placed the takeaway bag on top of Draco’s desk and rounded the large mahogany desk just when Draco was about to undo his prosecutor’s robes.

“No,” he said softly and reached out to stop Draco from taking off his robes.

“Oh?” Draco raised a questioning eyebrow and his lips curled upward and into a sly smile.

“You look incredibly hot in those robes,” Harry whispered, clasped his hand around Draco’s wrist and pulled him closer.

 _I want to ravish you when you wear those robes and only those robes_ , Harry thought but kept that fantasy to himself. For now, anyway.

“I do?” Draco said and Harry nodded. He sneaked his arm around Draco’s waist and pulled him flush against his own body.

“Yes, I do. Absolutely.”

“Mr Potter.”

“Yes, Draco?”

“Kiss me already.”

“How demanding you are,” Harry tsked with a smile and stroked his knuckles softly along Draco’s cheek, sliding his fingers through Draco’s hair and down to the nape of his neck. He felt Draco shudder and, leaning closer, Harry breathed against Draco’s lips, pleased when they parted slightly and Draco’s tongue darted out to wet his lips.

“Anticipation is the sweetest form of torture,” Harry mumbled, pressed his lips against Draco’s and kissed him softly, gently, unhurriedly. Draco hummed into the kiss, melted against him and he rested his arms on his shoulders.

Harry moved his hand from Draco’s lower back, slipped it underneath the robe and ran his fingers teasingly along the waistline of Draco’s trousers. He tugged at the shirt, pulled it from his trousers, and the moment his fingertips brushed against the warm skin underneath the tailormade garment, he deepened the kiss and swallowed a low moan that slipped past Draco’s lips and into his own mouth. He felt Draco’s fingers thread through his hair and slowly drew a line with an irregular pattern all the way from Draco’s abdomen along his side to his back.

Draco squirmed a little, obviously ticklish, and Harry splayed his hand against his lower back, relishing in the feel of warm, tender skin against his own hand. Winding his tongue around Draco’s, Harry teased it with dizzying precision and ran his hand up Draco’s spine. He could feel the growing arousal press into his thigh and it took him every ounce of self-control not to push Draco onto his desk and ravish him right here and now.

He continued to explore Draco’s mouth with his tongue and thwarted every single one of Draco’s attempts to take control over the kiss.

After a while, Draco slowly surrendered and instead of fighting to lead the kiss, he followed Harry, complimenting every stroke and lick of Harry’s tongue.

Harry moaned into the kiss, pleased with his win. He slowly and gently scraped his fingernails down Draco’s soft skin, which resulted in Draco arching his back and buckling his knees. The move pressed his arousal into Harry’s thigh. Harry shifted his leg, aware that the movement would result in delicious friction for Draco, then pushed this thigh firmly against Draco’s erection. Draco practically melted into his embrace and Harry swallowed the low drawn-out moan his kiss drew from the depths of Draco’s chest.

Draco’s hands slid down Harry’s back and came to rest on his arse. Harry allowed Draco to pull him closer. He responded by sliding his thigh against Draco’s erection and became aware of his own painfully hard cock, straining against his trousers.

Harry fought to stay in control over the situation. While he wanted Draco, wanted him more than he had ever wanted anyone, he really didn’t want their first time to be a hurried fuck in Draco’s office.

Still, the idea wholeheartedly appealed to him and he found it rather difficult to resist the temptation. It would be so easy to undo Draco’s trousers, pull them down, bend him over his desk, fire a locking and a silencing charm at the door and fuck him into sweet submission, have him gasping and panting as Harry repeatedly teased his prostate with the tip of his cock, forcing him closer and closer to a mind-blowing orgasm. His mind supplied him with several very helpful images and, swallowing a groan, he withdrew from the kiss and tried to somehow regulate his breathing.

He stared at Draco, mesmerised at how much his eyes had darkened. Draco’s lips were swollen and red, his breathing heavy and his face deliciously flushed. Harry wanted to kiss every inch of it. Draco moved to lean back against his desk and combed his fingers through his hair, further dishevelling it, and Harry decided that he loved this debauched look on Draco.

“Harry Potter,” Draco breathed, held his gaze, and watched with wide eyes as Harry leant forward, reached for the takeaway bag, and produced their coffees.

“I think we should have lunch,” he said with an air of cool, trained nonchalance, offering Draco his coffee.

Draco’s eyes narrowed and even though he took the offered paper cup from Harry, he did so with the biggest frown Harry had ever seen.

“You’re just going to stop here?” Draco asked incredulously and Harry nodded.

“I am.”

“Excuse me, I think I need to take a trip to the bathroom before I can stomach eating anything,” Draco said and set his coffee cup down. He went to move around his desk, wincing in obvious discomfort at the throbbing arousal in his trousers.

With the greatest effort, Harry managed to bite back a smirk, caught Draco’s wrist, and stopped him from leaving.

“A wank, really?” he asked.

“Yes,” Draco replied, quite carefree.

“No,” Harry shook his head and Draco raised an eyebrow at that.

“Pardon?”

“You can manage without,” Harry lowered his voice down to a whisper and drew Draco close. He pressed a kiss against his lips, lingered for a moment but did not deepen it.

“Not in your office, not the first time,” he spoke firmly and with conviction.

Draco sighed.

“Potter, what are we? Teenage girls on the verge of losing their virginity?” he asked, the frustration evident in his voice.

Harry smiled.

“You have no idea how much I want you right now,” he admitted. “I want to tear the clothes off your back, bend you over your desk and fuck you senseless.”

Draco groaned. “ _Fuck_ , do it.”

“No,” Harry shook his head, remaining resolute.

When Draco made to move away from him, he tightened his hold on Draco’s wrist.

“Do you have any plans on Saturday?” he asked, attempting to distract himself from further fantasising about bending Draco over his desk or the fact that Draco clearly wanted him so much that he was willing to forgo lunch in favour of a quick wank in one of the bathroom stalls.

“Sleep in and ignore the fact that I’ll be yet another year older,” Draco answered.

“Let me take you out on a date.”

Draco smirked. “Do you want to throw me a birthday party?”

“For two,” Harry said, winked, and leant in to seal his promise with a gentle kiss.

“And if you really want to you can go have a wank,” he conceded, knowing he had no right to demand control over Draco’s orgasms. However, he didn’t want to think about Draco doing _that_ while he wasn’t there to at least watch Draco enjoy a good wank, or even better to guide him through it and tell him exactly what to do and when.

“I think I can wait until tonight, lube spells suck, subpar quality,” Draco laughed and Harry couldn’t help but laugh too.

“Agreed. Means to an end, but the Muggle stuff is so much better.”

“I’m glad we see eye to eye on that,” Draco said and pulled his wrist from Harry’s grasp, reaching for his coffee. Harry grudgingly let go and when Draco slumped into his office chair, he casually sat down on the desk and sipped his own coffee.

“So, Potter, you have a fetish for my prosecutor’s robes, huh?” Draco teased and Harry rolled his eyes. “Should I bring these to my birthday dinner then?”

“Most definitely not,” Harry shook his head. He was quite certain that the next time he caught Draco alone in his prosecutor’s robes, he wouldn’t be able to exercise enough control to stop himself from going all the way. He had every intention of defiling Draco while he was wearing his robes, make him remember that encounter every time he put them on.

“Pity.”

“I’m sure we’ll find some use for them in the future,” Harry said appeasingly and decided it was safer if there was a barrier of some sort between him and Draco. He slid off the desk and moved to sit in one of the two chairs in front of it. He busied himself with revealing the contents of the takeaway bag and delighted in Draco’s childish glee as he cooed over his lunch.

Inevitably, he also made fun of Harry’s dessert but the moment Harry revealed the bowl of warm custard, Draco reached for his wand, transfigured one of the quills on his desk into a spoon and stole a large portion of it.

Harry laughed, allowed him to get away with it and they ate their lunch in near silence, casting longing glances at each other every so often.

Food distracted Harry enough to keep his cool but he was fully aware that Draco was struggling to keep it together. Feeling just a little sorry, he gave up his bowl of custard and pushed it over to Draco, a silent peace offering. Draco’s beaming smile tugged at Harry’s heartstrings and he quickly took a sip of his coffee.

Caleb’s firm talk had resulted in Harry jumping over his own shadow and taking a chance at dating Draco.

So far, everything was going well, with the exception that Harry was finding it harder and harder to resist Draco, to hold back. Ever since their first kiss, most of their dates ended with an explosive snogging session and Harry didn’t know how much more he was able to endure before he could no longer take it.

He didn’t want to resist him, wanted him so badly that his entire body ached with the need and the desire to have Draco, but he had put it in his head that he wanted their first time to be a special occasion, memorable. He wanted them to take their time, to really explore each other’s bodies. It was crazy, Harry knew that much, but it was something he wasn’t willing to compromise on and so he resolutely procrastinated, aware that Draco was probably getting increasingly frustrated with him.  
  
“Thinking of all the hot sex you’re currently missing out on?” Draco drawled, pointedly interrupting Harry’s chain of thought and Harry snapped his head up and glared.

“Draco—” he snarled warningly.

“There’s no way your present thoughts aren’t X-rated,” Draco said, smiling sweetly and Harry suppressed a groan.

“I know mine are,” he added cheekily and Harry took a deep, calming breath, clenched a shaking hand in his lap, and refused to rise to the bait, continuing to eat his dessert instead. He had completely forgotten about his beef sandwich, wasn’t even interested in having it anymore. The treacle tart was divine, and it helped to keep his frazzled nerves under control.

“Don’t push it,” Harry warned, though his eyes twinkled playfully as he shoved a large bite of tart into his mouth. He ardently enjoyed their banter, their casual back and forth. Draco’s cheekiness was something he relished in, something zesty, something refreshing that gave him a kick. It wasn’t something he wanted to lock away inside a cupboard, it wasn’t something he ever wanted to tame. He found it an extraordinary mental turn on.

“I’d rather you do the pushing,” Draco chuckled and this time Harry didn’t suppress a groan.

“Filth, you are pure _filth_ ,” he sighed.

“You say the sweetest things, Potter.”

“Someone ought to spank your insolence right out of you,” Harry mumbled, unable to restrain his thoughts. His mind naturally supplied him with the sweet image of Draco bend over his knees, pert pale arse exposed, and Harry momentarily lost himself in the fantasy of bringing the flat of his hand firmly down on Draco’s arse, colouring it red, making it sting.

“Are you offering?” Draco teased and Harry opened his mouth to say something, decided against it and shoved another bite of tart into his mouth.

 _He is just joking_ , _he doesn’t know what he’s talking about_ , Harry reminded himself firmly and repeatedly. Any other thoughts were too dangerous and Harry didn’t dare to go near them. A nagging voice in the back of Harry’s head tried telling him that Draco knew very well what he had just said and that he had said it deliberately. Harry ignored that voice resolutely and forced it into the darkest corner of his mind, locked the door and tossed away the key.

“I should head back to my office,” he spoke, mouth still half full of tart.

“Don’t flee,” Draco winked and Harry rolled his eyes. “I promise I’ll be good.”

Harry suppressed a groan and glanced at his watch.

“I have a meeting in ten,” he lied straight through his teeth, wrapped the leftover piece of his treacle tart up again and placed it in the bag, right on top of his beef sandwich. He rose to his feet and, with his coffee and the takeaway bag in one hand, he went to pull the door to Draco’s office open. At the last minute, he hesitated, turned around and smiled at Draco.

“Enjoy your wank tonight, I hope you’ll come all over your hand to images of me fucking you bend over that pretty expensive desk of yours while you wear nothing but your black prosecutor’s robes,” he said casually and didn’t wait for Draco’s response, as he pulled the door open and left the office.


	8. Happy Birthday, Dragon Boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)

* * *

> “ _Bon anniversaire, nos vœux les plus sincères,_  
>  _Que ces quelques fleurs vous apportent le bonheur,_  
>  _Que l'année entière vous soit douce et légère,  
>  __Et que l'an fini, nous soyons tous réunis,  
>  __Pour chanter en chœur: "Bon Anniversaire, Draco!_ ”

Harry sang at the top of his lungs the moment Draco opened the door to his flat and took extreme pleasure over the fact that Draco’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor. Harry offered him a handblown glass vase with an extravagant bouquet of orange roses, yellow Asiatic lilies, pink Peruvian lilies, Athos poms and white daisy poms, which Draco accepted with an obvious lump in his throat. 

He wordlessly stepped aside, allowed Harry to come in and because Harry still had his hands full, he kicked the door shut.

“You can sing in French!” Draco exclaimed and Harry laughed.

“I spent a couple of months in Quebec, picked up a good bit of French. Such a beautiful language,” he explained with a sheepish grin, then motioned towards the flowers he had given Draco.

“I hope you like them, they are a bit colourful but the florist said they were the perfect choice for a twenty-seven-year-old birthday boy,” he smiled. He had spent nearly an hour driving the poor florist mad as he had asked her a million and one questions about birthday flower bouquets for a man. She’d had the patience of a saint and had shown him a large assortment of photographs, allowing him to choose one he thought fitting before carefully selecting the flowers and binding them together into a beautiful bouquet. She had firmly discouraged him from purchasing red roses and Harry hadn’t wanted to. He had wanted something playful, something bright and cheerful, something colourful.

“I—” Draco started but broke off, blinked several times, and smiled shyly. He was clearly gobsmacked and, not having seen that side of him before, Harry relished in it.

“Thank you, Harry, no one’s ever given me flowers for my birthday before,” he admitted quietly and walked into the flat. He placed the vase right in the centre of the coffee table in his living room. Harry, sensibly having kicked off his shoes, followed Draco and fastened the large dragon-shaped helium-filled balloon, which he had charmed with the numbers two and seven to the table with a sticking charm.

When Draco turned around, Harry handed him a large box of handmade chocolate truffles in the shape of tiny winged snitches and broomsticks.

“For your sweet tooth. I had them filled with cherry liqueur,” Harry whispered and, not waiting for Draco to put the box down, he pulled him into a searing kiss.

With his hands now free, he sneaked them both around Draco’s waist, and pulled him close, needing to feel him against his own body. Draco’s hands dropped to his sides and as he melted into the kiss, Harry slowly pushed him backwards. He gently coerced him onto the sofa, straddled his thighs and deepened the kiss. He fully intended on snogging all rational thought out of Draco and succeeded in his quest several minutes into the kiss.

Draco had let go of the box, which had slid off the edge of the sofa and was now resting on the floor. He had also clutched his fingers firmly into Harry’s t-shirt, holding on for dear life and, unable to resist the temptation, Harry slipped one hand between both their bodies.

He trailed a single finger down the centre of Draco’s chest, pressed his palm against Draco’s wildly thumping heart. Its erratic pounding matched Harry’s own heartbeat and he deepened the kiss a little more, letting his fingers slip further down.

He withdrew from the kiss, nipped at Draco’s bottom lip, and sighed hotly. The breathless panting was music to his ears and he peppered both Draco’s bottom lip and his upper lip with featherlight kisses. Draco moaned and Harry boldly slipped his hand further down and cupped Draco’s erection through his trousers. He rubbed his palm against it, squeezed the hard flesh gently and Draco’s low, desperate whine reverberated around the room.

He smiled, then abruptly ceased to tease Draco.

“Please, don’t stop here,” Draco pleaded, forced his eyes open and fixed them on Harry, who withdrew a little and smiled.

“What do you want, birthday boy?” he asked.

Draco’s pewter eyes had turned a dark charcoal grey and Harry couldn’t help but marvel at the effect he was having on him. It was such a turn on, it fuelled him with the intense desire to claim Draco, to make him his. The temptation to abandon all his plans for today, and spend the rest of the morning and the entire afternoon, possibly also the evening and the night, making Draco’s wildest dreams come true, was enthralling.

“You,” Draco breathed. “I want _you_ , so bad.”

“How?” Harry pushed, then pressed a kiss onto Draco’s lips and pushed his hand firmly against Draco’s erection.

Draco whimpered.

“How do you want me?” Harry asked again.

“Just _don’t_ stop.”

“Don’t stop what? Don’t stop kissing you? Don’t stop touching you?” Harry teased.

“Ha—Harry,” Draco moaned and Harry chuckled softly. “Nnn—aaah, please.”

“I suppose since you’re the birthday boy you do deserve a treat,” he whispered against Draco’s lips, trailed a series of teasing kisses along his jaw and assaulted his neck with a series of kisses and little nips. His nimble fingers made short work of the button and, pulling the zipper down, he slipped his hand into Draco’s trousers but refrained from pushing his hand inside the silken boxer shorts he found underneath.

He ran his palm along the length of Draco’s shaft, using just the right amount of pressure to cause delightful friction. Draco exposed more of his neck to him and a long, low moan escaped from somewhere deep inside him.

Harry had spent the last several weeks wanking himself raw to a series of salacious thoughts of ravishing Draco and this innocent make-out session was enough to cloud his senses and rob his mind of all sensible thoughts. He hadn’t planned to give Draco more than a hot, arousing kiss before dragging him out of the house but his own needs and desires had betrayed him and now, he couldn’t find it in him to stop.

“ _Circe_ ,” Draco whimpered. “You’ll be the death of me, Potter.”

Harry laughed. It was low, amused.

 _If you think me doing this will be the death of you, you don’t know the first thing about what I can do to you_ , he thought sinisterly and bit Draco’s neck gently. He sucked the hot, somewhat salty-tasting flesh into his mouth and slipped a single finger into the slit of Draco’s boxer shorts. He rubbed over the tip of Draco’s cock, pleased to find it coated in a thick layer of precome and pressed his finger against the sensitive flesh just underneath the head, drawing circle after circle, while the rest of his hand still teased Draco’s throbbing cock.

At this stage, Draco’s hands were no longer gripping at his t-shirt. Instead, he had them splayed out on the sofa and he repeatedly flexed and relaxed his long fingers, scratching his nails against the soft white fabric.

Sucking a little harder, Harry left a delightful love bite on Draco’s neck, which he soothed first with his tongue, then kissed repeatedly using soft gentle brushes of his mouth and lips.

“Want you to come from this,” he whispered hotly and Draco groaned and bucked his hips.

“ _Fuck_ , Potter,” he swore and Harry lapped at his earlobe, sucked it into his mouth and gently nibbled on the sensitive skin.

“You’re so pretty,” Harry breathed into Draco’s ear, trailed hot kisses along Draco’s jaw and to his mouth, which he captured in a fiery kiss. He swallowed moan after moan, increased the pressure of his finger, running circles around the head of Draco’s cock and managed to somehow twist his hand to slip it fully into the boxers.

He gripped Draco’s hard long shaft firmly, pushed his thumb against the underside of the head and rubbed it back and forth while his fist slid up and down Draco’s cock. He didn’t exactly have a lot of room to move but it was just about enough to make what he was doing pleasurable for Draco.

He deepened the kiss, wound his tongue around Draco’s and caressed every inch of it and Draco’s mouth. Then, with a few skilled strokes, he pulled an earth-shattering orgasm from Draco, who arched his back, involuntarily kicked at the table, withdrew from the kiss, swore, and panted at the same time.

Harry gently teased Draco’s spent cock, deliberately extending the aftermath of his orgasm _that_ little bit longer.

Then, he slowly withdrew his hand, now coated in Draco’s come. Sitting back a little, he brought his hand up to his mouth and licked a large portion of the thick fluid off his palm. Draco watched him with wide eyes while his chest rose and fell rapidly.

“So sweet,” Harry mused with a broad grin and effortlessly slid off Draco’s lap. He rose to his feet, stretched languidly, and made his way into the open-plan kitchen to wash the rest of Draco’s come off his hand.

“You better change your clothes,” he called out to Draco, who mumbled something incomprehensible in return and instead of getting up, he curled up on the sofa and sighed contently.

 _Purr, purr, little kitten_ , Harry thought, chuckled, reached for the soap, and washed his hands good and proper.

By the time he had dried his hands on a kitchen towel, Draco was half asleep. Harry watched him for a while, mesmerised at how young he looked, stripped free of any and all worries. He looked almost ten years younger, looked entirely innocent. There was no trace of a troubled childhood, a stressful job, and a traumatised post-war life.

Right now, Draco was just a boy, a sweet, sweet boy and Harry welled up just a little, as his heart skipped several beats. He wondered whether he had already fallen hard and fast or whether he was still on the journey down the proverbial rabbit hole.

He fought the urge to simply let Draco sleep, to allow him to recover, but he finally decided to kneel beside the sofa. Harry ran his fingers through the now messy hair on his head and leant down to kiss his cheek.

“C’mon, I've got a fun afternoon and evening planned for you, birthday boy,” he said with a casual glance at his wristwatch. Lunchtime was still a couple of hours away.

“Hm, give me five minutes,” Draco mumbled and Harry laughed softly.

“Already did. C'mon, ‘twas just a hand job.”

“‘Twas amazing though,” Draco murmured and as his eyes fluttered open, Harry’s heart melted completely.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. There’s more of the same in your future if you want it.”

“Yes, yes, and yes,” Draco smiled and Harry smirked, then cheekily smacked Draco’s arse.

“Only if you get up and change so I can take you out. I want to show my gorgeous boyfriend off to the world, make everyone Slytherin-green with envy.”

“Boyfriend?” Draco asked, still somewhat bleary-eyed as he shuffled into a sitting position. Harry automatically rose and moved to sit on the sofa.

“If you want to?” he asked, feeling a flush of mild embarrassment creep up his neck and into his cheeks.

“I want to,” Draco smiled and got to his feet. He stretched and, with his trousers still undone he briefly exposed the Sectumsempra curse scar that slashed across his lower abdomen. Harry’s eyes were immediately drawn to it and he swallowed hard. As if on autopilot, he reached out, gently grabbed Draco’s hips and spread his legs, pulling Draco closer. Leaning forward, he exposed the scar and placed a gentle kiss right on top of the marred pale skin.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered against it and Draco shuddered, then pulled away.

“I told you, I forgave you a long time ago,” he said firmly and Harry nodded. He moved off the couch, pulled Draco into a loving embrace and kissed him gently.

“You are a special brand of wonderful, Draco Malfoy,” he whispered and Draco laughed.

“You’re a sap, Harry Potter,” he said, pulled out of the embrace, and turned to make his way upstairs and into his bedroom. “Give me fifteen minutes.”

Harry nodded, sunk back into the sofa cushions and with a low sigh he ran his fingers through his messy hair.

So much for self-control, so much for restraint.

But he had no regrets about what had happened. He had no doubt that Draco had enjoyed himself and even though Harry hadn’t come, had taken immense pleasure from the way Draco had melted against him, and all the delicious sounds he had made and how hard he had come from a simple hand job. It really hadn’t been what he had planned for the first time he and Draco got properly down and dirty together but Harry couldn’t find any faults with it and his thoughts moved to the delightful turn of events.

 _Boyfriend, I’ve got a boyfriend_ , he mused and grinned from ear to ear.


	9. Romance Me Crazy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)

* * *

“The zoo?” Draco asked incredulously. Harry smiled, grabbed his hand, and gently interlaced their fingers as they turned right off Regent’s Park Broadway and towards London Zoo’s entrance. “You’re taking me to the zoo,” this time it wasn’t so much a question but an observation.

Harry turned to face Draco and winked.

“Something safe,” he smiled. “Lest we are somewhere where you might suggest that I ravish you.”

“I’m sure they have secluded corners and bathrooms in the zoo,” Draco mused with a mischievous grin and Harry fixed him with a glare.  
  
“I will not shag you in a secluded corner _or_ a bathroom,” he said vehemently, rather put out that Draco was even suggesting it.

Although, if he was entirely honest — _which he wasn’t_ — a bit of wild snogging and inappropriate touching in a semi-secluded corner, where anyone could catch them at any moment, did rather excite Harry. There was something exhilarating about that idea and Harry had to take a calming breath.

“No sense of adventure,” Draco rolled his eyes but laughed softly. “You do realise I’m twenty-seven today not seven, right?”

 _You really don’t want to know exactly how adventurous I can get_ , Harry thought to himself and tried not to imagine tying Draco to an abandoned animal cage, spreader bar keeping his legs firmly apart as he teased him mercilessly, until Draco willingly pushed back against the steel bars of the cage to get any kind of friction to his neglected rim. Harry shuddered and pushed that fantasy into the furthest corner of his mind. He really didn’t want to have to deal with a raging hard-on right now.

“Hm, I do, you’re a big boy. Still, nothing wrong with a trip to the zoo,” he shrugged nonchalantly and, as they approached the zoo’s entrance, he instinctively chose the shortest queue. He had pre-booked their tickets at one of London’s tourist offices scattered around the city and just needed to show his reservation. The cashier handed him two tickets, which included a light lunch or afternoon snack at _The Terrace_ , the zoo’s very own restaurant, and, tickets in hand, Harry pulled Draco along to the barriers were a friendly-looking employee verified them and let them through.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever taken me to the zoo before,” Draco said and Harry squeezed his hand that little bit tighter. He wasn’t about to let go and Draco seemingly had no problem with their public display of affection.

 _Good_ , Harry thought, _because I plan to show you off to the world_.

“In that case, do you have any preference as to where you’d like to go first?” Harry asked, deciding to leave the choice of where to go up to Draco. It was, after all, his birthday.

“Can we take a stroll around and see everything?”

Draco looked rather sheepish.

Harry could tell that his shyness was merely a feigned act of innocence, the gleam in his eyes gave Draco away and it was a pretty sight.

“Of course, should be fun,” Harry smiled and they walked off into a random direction.

A short time later they arrived at the gorilla kingdom, admired all the different monkey species, and laughed together at just how goofily some of the smaller monkeys behaved when people were watching them. Soon enough, their cheeks and sides hurt from all the laughing and Harry paused for a moment, squeezed Draco’s hand, and drew him closer.

He reached out, tugged a loose strand of hair behind Draco’s ear and smiled.

“You’re beautiful.”

Harry leant in, and placed a shy kiss on Draco’s lips. He noted the shudder that surged through Draco and, acutely aware of their surroundings, he withdrew and broke the moment between them, but not before he took a mental photograph of the dazed look in Draco’s eyes.

“Where do you want to go next?” he asked quietly and Draco, apparently too stupefied to speak, merely tugged on his hand and dragged him over to the reptile house where they delighted in an amazing collection of reptiles and amphibians.

“Snake boy, care to introduce me to your friends?” Draco teased as they stood in front of the terrarium that housed a rather large boa constrictor and Harry rolled his eyes.

“Introduce you as my boyfriend or her dinner?” he asked and Draco glowered at him.

Harry stroked his thumb over the back of his hand and smiled. Before long, Draco’s expression softened and they walked on to look at the crocodiles, then headed over to the aquarium and quietly strolled through the three different halls. They enjoyed the vast selection of exotic, beautiful and weird fish, although Harry found his attention frequently drawn to Draco. He positively relished in Draco’s innocent, child-like delight at almost everything they saw. While he didn’t use so many words, his actions gave him away. It was the way he looked at all the animals around them, the way he thoughtfully studied the information about each of the animals and the way he made silly little jokes ever so often.

 _Merlin help me_ , Harry thought, _I’m head over heels for you_.

By the time they reached the tropical fish, Harry was quite sure of one thing and that was that he simply had to have Draco.

Draco was going to be his and he wouldn’t allow anybody to lay their hands on this beautiful creature, sent from heaven above to ensnare his senses, cloud his mind, and turn him into a smitten, love-struck fool.

Harry suppressed a sigh and turned his attention firmly to the colourful schools of tropical fish swarming around a coral reef. They were rather mesmerising to look at and as he and Draco stood in front of the massive fish tank, Harry let go of Draco’s hand and slipped his arm around his waist instead. He drew him close and Draco, almost naturally, rested his head on Harry’s shoulder.

“Fucking fags!”

Someone snarled at them in passing and Harry felt Draco’s entire body go rigid beside him.

Harry whirled around in an instant. A teenage boy scowled at him, but Harry calmly held his gaze, his eyes blazing with red-hot anger. The boy shrunk a little under his dominating gaze but defiantly threw another couple of insults at them, before spitting on the ground in front of Harry.

With a low growl, Harry snapped his fingers and the boy tripped on thin air. He found himself flat on his front howling in pain from the way he had twisted his ankle as Harry’s wandless, wordless spell had sent him flying to the ground. He hastily clambered back up and limped away.

“Karma’s a bitch!” Harry called after him and when he turned around Draco was bend over laughing, clutching at his stomach as he simultaneously tried to speak and breathe. Whatever he was trying to say came out as a distorted snort that made no sense whatsoever. Harry grinned and chuckled, then took a step forward to steady Draco, who was swaying, clearly a little dizzy and nearing hyperventilation.

“You’re fucking incredible, Potter,” Draco finally managed to pay him a compliment and Harry grinned.

“I do what I can for my favourite faggot.”

Draco burst into another fit of laughter.

Harry shook his head, rolled his eyes but couldn’t deny that the good mood was infectious. Throwing his arm around Draco’s shoulders, he pulled him close and planted a firm, wet and sloppy kiss on his lips.

“Come on, you mental case.”

He grinned and together they walked off towards the _Outback_ section of the zoo, where they keenly observed native Australian animals. Next, they headed towards the African safari and then spent a rather long time in the Snowdon Aviary. When they reached the owls, Harry’s felt a heavy tug in his chest at the bitter memory of Hedwig’s death. He noted Draco’s scrutinising look.

“Did you know that a group of owls is called a parliament?” he asked unexpectedly and Harry frowned and shook his head. He hadn’t known that.

“They can also turn their heads by as much as 270 degrees,” Draco volunteered another random fact.

“That’s a bit crazy,” Harry sighed, trying to comprehend how that was possible. He had been working hard at getting himself ready to officially take over the Auror Department and the formal announcement of his new position was in two weeks’ time. He had spent the last few months reading more books and memos than in his entire time at Hogwarts, or so it felt, and the mere thought of anyone turning head by ninety degrees, let alone 270, gave him a headache.

“Did you know that many owl species have asymmetrical ears? When located at different heights on the owl’s head, their ears can pinpoint the location of sounds in multiple dimensions.”

Draco offered even more surprising knowledge about owls, mockingly moved into a duelling stance, cast a quick glance around them, drew his wand and conjured a single white lily. “ _Ready_ , _aim_ , _strike_ ,” Draco smirked and offered the lily to Harry, who shook his head and accepted the gift.

“You are full of surprises, Draco Malfoy,” he praised, reached out and drew Draco in for a searing kiss. He momentarily allowed Draco to take lead and relished in the way Draco domineeringly pushed his tongue into his mouth to seek out its counterpart. But just when he had Draco convinced that he had the upper hand, Harry deliberately took charge of the kiss. He snogged the life out of Draco and shortly after they pulled apart, they were both breathless.

“Fuck— _Harry_ , you can’t kiss me like that,” Draco whined and his desperate need for more was utterly evident in his eyes, which had darkened with lust.

Harry merely laughed.

“I can and I will, you’re my boyfriend.”

“You can’t kiss me like that and then _not_ shag me,” Draco insisted and, taking a step closer to Draco, Harry wrapped both his hands firmly around Draco’s waist and pulled him close.

“You want me to shag you, is that it?”

Draco nodded and his breath hitched. Harry cupped his arse and gave the pert buttocks a firm squeeze.

“Patience is a virtue,” he said softly, planted a loving kiss on Draco’s lips and resolutely broke away. He casually headed towards a small bridge that led over a stream. He sensed that Draco was hard on his heels, he kept walking, taking deep breathes because all he really wanted was to shag Draco. Harry didn’t know whether it was Draco who was more desperate for it or whether he was the one who wanted it more. He did, however, know that it was costing him all his self-control not to spin around, grab Draco and apparate them both to Grimmauld Place for an afternoon shag.

They walked in silence for the longest time. At some point, Draco hesitatingly reached out and took Harry’s hand. Harry immediately curled his fingers around them and squeezed tightly as they passed the section of the zoo devoted to rainforest life.

They stopped off at the zoo restaurant where Harry ordered a grilled turkey sandwich and fries while Draco chose a salad and two desserts. Harry shook his head but said nothing about Draco’s sweet obsession. They drank two cappuccinos each and chatted about this and that. With their energy levels replenished they strolled around the rest of the zoo, thoroughly enjoying absolutely everything. They, of course, stopped every now and then to share a kiss but eventually returned to the entrance to go and find Draco’s final birthday gift of the day.

With plenty of time to spare, Harry dragged Draco down the road and towards the Marylebone Underground Station where they, despite Draco’s heavy protests and insistence that they should just apparate, got onto the Bakerloo line which took them to Baker Street. There they changed to the Jubilee line.

By the time they got off the tube at Westminster, Draco was still frowning and as they stood on the escalator, Harry leant in and pressed his lips to Draco’s ear.

“You’re fucking hot when you’re rattled,” he whispered, pleased when Draco’s entire body shuddered. To make his point, Harry casually slipped his arm around Draco’s waist and allowed his fingers to slip indecently low, toying with the button at the top of the Draco’s trousers.

“Cock tease,” Draco grumbled with a half-smile and once they returned above ground, Harry slipped his hand into Draco’s and pulled him towards Westminster pier and straight to the queue of a temporary ice-cream parlour. He brought Draco a large cone with two scoops of vanilla ice-cream and raspberry sauce on top and offered it to Draco.

“I’m sorry, something to sweeten the deal and make you forget about my wayward ways,” he smiled and Draco rolled his eyes but accepted anyway.

Much to Harry’s chagrin, Draco dipped his finger halfway into the cold, sweet treat, then sucked it into his mouth. Harry groaned as he watched Draco suck the ice-cream off his finger and instantly imagined those lips wrapped around his hardening cock.

Draco made a proper show out of devouring the ice-cream on his finger and by the time he let it pop from his mouth, Harry felt just a little dizzy and was painfully hard.

Draco’s tongue darted out and he salaciously lapped at the ice-cream inside the cone. He made an approving sound, that could have just as well been a moan and Harry clenched his hands at his sides and willed himself to remain calm and controlled.

But _heavens_ did he want Draco. He wanted him so badly he had no idea how he was supposed to get through the evening without jumping Draco. He wanted him on his knees, sucking his cock, looking up at him while Harry threaded his fingers through his soft blond hair and told him how good he was at giving pleasure.

“I wasn’t born yesterday, Harry, I know how to play the game,” Draco smiled sweetly.

There was a devilish glint in his eyes that Harry desperately wanted to spank out of him but he kept that thought firmly locked away in the depths of his mind.

“I know you do.”  
  
Harry said nothing further on the matter and instead walked slowly down along the pier. It was a lovely early summer evening and the sun was still out. Miraculously, the crowds weren’t overbearing and the few people around them were idly strolling down the pier or taking pictures, enjoying a beautiful evening out in London. Harry walked towards the railing that separated the promenade from the Thames and braced himself on his elbows. He looked out over the water, tilted his face towards the sun and closed his eyes. He sighed softly and didn’t need to open his eyes to know that Draco stood next to him, closer than strictly necessary. He could sense him, smell him, feel him right there. Harry’s heart skipped several beats and something fluttered in the pit of his stomach.

“Harry,” Draco said softly.

“Hm?” Harry still did not turn to look at Draco. The sun was tickling his face and he wanted to soak up the warm rays for a little while longer.

“Are you mad?”

“Why would I be mad?” Harry asked.

“I don’t know, but you’re hot one minute and cold the other, I’m not quite sure what to make of it.”

Harry sighed and, turning his head, he looked at Draco and squinted a few times until Draco’s blurry shape came into focus and he could see him clearly.

“Not on purpose, trust me,” he said softly, reached out and circled a single finger over the back of Draco’s hand. Draco’s breathing hitched a little bit and Harry smiled.

“I enjoy it,” he confessed with a whisper.

“Enjoy what? Teasing me?”

Harry nodded. “That too, but mostly I just enjoy you. You’re so fucking perfect, I don’t think you have any idea how hot you are and how weak you make me.”

“Yet you seem to have the stubborn willpower of a steel donkey,” Draco rolled his eyes and Harry laughed at the weird metaphor. “And just so you know, I do know that I’m hot,” Draco added and Harry groaned.

“You truly are truly a conundrum, Draco Malfoy.”

Harry smiled, pushed away from the railing and stepped in front of Draco. Leaning close he whispered, “I’ll make it worth the wait, I promise you,” into Draco’s ear and kissed his earlobe.

When he pulled back, Draco looked thoroughly dazed and was panting slightly. He parted his lips and Harry watched, mesmerised, as his tongue darted out to wet his lips.

“I think the conundrum is _you_ , Harry Potter, I’ve all my cards on the table. You play by rules I’m not privy of.” For an intense moment or two, they stared into each other’s eyes, losing themselves in the words their mouths refused to say. The air around them crackled hotly and Harry could feel his magic react to the effect Draco was having on him. He tentatively let it loose and it lapped at Draco’s magical aura. It was just a gentle touch but Harry’s entire body shook from the impact and he watched Draco’s eyes widen in surprise and his body straighten up at the unexpected gentle assault.

“Fucking hell, Potter, give us a warning before you do something like that,” Draco breathed and Harry smiled, then allowed his magic to settle.

“Didn’t think it be quite that strong a reaction.”

Draco glared at him, although there was absolutely no bite to it, “ _Nah-ah_ , you’re a powerful wizard, Harry, what did you expect would happen?”

Harry shrugged, then his eyes widened in surprise when something entirely intangible lapped at his own magical aura. It was both cool and warm at the same time and he shuddered at how oddly right it felt, at how easily Draco’s magic moulded around him, as though that was exactly the place it wanted to be. Draco smiled and withdrew. They both settled and Harry felt just a little dazed. Their magical cores were oddly attuned, almost like they were two halves of a whole and Harry felt yet another barrier dissolve.

“Care to tell me what we’re doing down at the pier? I have the feeling you didn’t drag me here for ice-cream and a leisurely walk down the promenade,” Draco broke the moment between them and Harry snapped out of his thoughts.

“Dinner,” Harry replied and motioned towards one of the cruise ships. “Dinner and a dance.” He smiled.

“If you’re trying to woo me, it’s working,” Draco said.

Having finished his ice-cream, he pushed himself away from the railing and threw the cone into the nearest bin.

“Shouldn’t we have changed into something more suitable for a fancy evening on a boat?” he asked as he followed Harry to the landing stage where their ship for the night was waiting for them.

“These outfits will do just fine,” Harry said as he produced two tickets, slotted into the line of queuing people, and reached for Draco’s hand. He squeezed it gently and as they neared the entrance of the boat, Draco nervously tugged at his hand and motioned for the couple behind them to step ahead.

“I should probably tell you that I can’t swim,” Draco confessed and Harry noted the wary glance he threw at the water.

“I’ve no intention of letting you go overboard. You’ll be fine, I’ll keep you safe.”

Draco gave the water another wary distrustful look, hesitated for a moment, then shrugged and gave in. Together they boarded the ship and Harry presented their tickets. A handsome young waiter walked them to their designated table. It was half-secluded and Harry thanked him as they prepared to take their seats. Harry pulled Draco’s chair back, waiting for him to sit first before he took his own seat.

Their table was right by the window and hidden away behind some decorative plants. It offered a fantastic view out over the water as well as on the stage near them. Harry reached out and with a very casual flick of his hand he lit the two long, slender candles in the centre of the table and requested a whiskey neat from the waiter, who had once again approached their table. He ignored the temptation to order a glass of wine for Draco and was pleasantly surprised when Draco asked for a Dry Martini.

“No wine today?” he inquired and Draco shook his head.

“Don’t feel like it.”

Harry nodded. “I think they’re serving half a bottle with the main course, but I’m not sure if it’s white or red.” He vaguely remembered having read that in the summary of the trip.

A short while later another waiter handed them tonight’s menu, a delightful yet light four-course meal, along with the programme for the live performance later. Draco glanced at the menu and instantly pulled a face.

“Suffice to say we won’t be drinking the wine they are serving,” he stated matter-of-factly. “It doesn’t at all go with the offered main course.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at him and the corners of his mouth twitched as he tried to keep a smile off his face. “I thought you were an expert on the law and not a wine connoisseur.”

“I am an expert on the law and that’s exactly why we won’t be drinking their wine, it’s a crime. A rich, ripe Pinot Gris would be perfect for a dish of roast duck but not an Albariño, that’s a wine for seafood,” Draco frowned, sat up a little straighter and elegantly crossed his arms over his chest in an act of pure defiance.

Harry couldn’t help but grin.

“I’ll just pretend that I understood any of what you just said there,” he said and exactly at that moment, their waiter approached them with their drinks and the hors-d'oeuvres — goat cheese crostini with fig-olive tapenade.

Just as the waiter was about to leave, Harry leant back in his chair, gently placed his hand on the waiter’s arm and stopped him. “We won’t be having the wine that comes with the meal, please bring us a bottle of the special edition Dom Perignon on ice and two glasses,” he instructed and the waiter nodded, then disappeared. When Harry looked at Draco, he was staring at him open-mouthed.

“That’s a grand and a half a bottle, Harry, you are _insane_!” Draco exclaimed and Harry sneaked his arm across the table and placed his hand on top of Draco’s.

“Only the best for the birthday boy,” he winked.

“Harry! That’s too much, no,” Draco shook his head and Harry squeezed his hand gently.

“It’s not enough, it’s not too much, it’s just perfect for you. Happy Birthday!”

Draco opened his mouth to protest further but Harry gave him a stern look and, closing his mouth, Draco swallowed whatever had been on the tip of his tongue. He quietly shook his head and withdrew his hand from underneath Harry’s.

“With you, a bottle of beer in a cosy pub would be perfect,” he whispered a confession that instantly melted Harry’s heart.

 _I just want to spoil you; you gorgeous heavenly creature_ , Harry thought and the words were on the tip of his tongue but he swallowed them and reached for one of the hors-d'oeuvres instead.

He watched Draco study tonight’s music program and couldn’t help but wonder whether he had upset Draco. He was unable to get a proper read on Draco and so the question continued to whirl in his mind. He sighed, reached for his drink, and toyed with it. After a minute or two of painfully uncomfortable silence, he cleared his throat and set his drink down on the table.

“I’m sorry. If it makes you that uncomfortable, I’ll cancel the order and we’ll just drink this,” Harry apologised and pointed towards their drinks when Draco lifted his head to look up at him.

“I’m not uncomfortable, and I’m not angry either. I just don’t know what to make of you, Harry Potter. You’re not the boy I knew.”

Harry shrugged. “I’ve grown up. You’re not the boy I knew either.”

“You were never _this_ confident,” Draco shook his head. “Now you are. You sass, you’re bossy, you’re organised, you’re romantic, you’re— _Fuck_! Potter, are you on drugs? Addicted to Felix Felicis, perhaps?”

Harry laughed, properly laughed, and wiped a tear from the corner of his left eye. He took a deep breath to calm himself and grinned.

“Yeah, I am. It’s a brand new highly potent and extremely hard to obtain drug. Goes by the name of Draco Malfoy. You’re my ecstasy, Draco, I’ve been high on you for a couple of months now and it’s only getting worse.”

“You say the sweetest things.” Draco rolled his eyes but his lips curled upwards and into a grin, then he reached for his dry martini and just before taking a sip he lowered his voice to a husky drawl, “you’re my kryptonite, Potter.”

Harry swallowed a groan, swallowed the stupid comment about Draco knowing Muggle superheroes and just stared.

 _No, Draco,_ you _are_ my _kryptonite, you just don’t know it_ , he thought and reached for another hors-d'oeuvres. Draco copied him and they munched away in silence as the boat finally pulled away from the pier and out onto the Thames. The champagne arrived a short while later and Harry expertly opened the bottle and poured them both a glass. The musicians took to the stage and started the first half of their performance, several slow jazz numbers, perfect background music for their dinner.

They ate their starter — pot-roasted broccoli with shishito peppers and pickled onions — and the main course — roasted duck with an orange-bourbon glaze — in silence though Harry couldn’t stop himself from sneaking glances at Draco every so often. Draco caught him staring several times but never said anything, just resumed eating with a content smile on his face.

When dessert arrived — _lemon crème brûlée_ — Harry tasted his, then handed it off to Draco, who laughed and accepted the second dessert happily.

“You’re a sucker for anything sweet,” Harry grinned, refilled their champagne flutes and, sitting back, he watched Draco indulge in his dessert. For once, he didn’t make a show of eating seductively but their eyes met anyway and Harry’s sucked in a sharp breath. He leant forward again and raised an eyebrow at Draco when he felt something creeping up his leg. Draco had, quite casually so, slipped out of his shoe and was now slowly running his toes up and down Harry’s calf.

“What are you doing?” he asked and Draco shrugged.  
  
“Eating my dessert,” Draco drawled with an air of nonchalance only a Malfoy could muster.

“Under the table, I mean.”

Harry tried to remain entirely unfazed about the fact that Draco’s foot had reached his knee and was now creeping up the inside of his thighs. He spread his legs a little further and wondered exactly how long Draco intended to play this game.

 _Bold, very bold indeed_ , Harry thought.

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” Draco shrugged, reached for his champagne, and leant forward in his chair. His foot slid higher up Harry’s thigh and Harry’s tried his hardest to control his breathing. A moment later, Draco reached his crotch and pressed his foot into it, then curled his toes and expertly rubbed along the outline of Harry’s half-erect cock. Harry’s breathing hitched up a notch and he stared at Draco, holding his gaze as Draco continued to tease him to full hardness.

“You are naughty, very naughty,” Harry sighed and reached for his champagne.

“Are you complaining?” Draco asked and Harry emptied his champagne flute in response. While doing so, he casually slipped his free hand under the table and placed it above Draco’s foot. He mumbled the incantation to a spell and watched Draco shudder as his magic flowed from his hand into Draco’s foot and up his leg.

Draco promptly curled his toes and pushed them harder into Harry’s crotch, massaging his hard cock through his trousers. He gasped, shuffled uncomfortably in his seat, grimaced and stared at Harry with wide eyes.

“What did you do?” he asked.

“Just a simple mirroring spell, whatever you do to me, you feel tenfold.”

“Bastard.” Draco growled and Harry silently counted to three.

At two, Draco flexed and curled his toes, then pushed the ball of his foot firmly against Harry’s erection. He instantly wriggled uncomfortably in his chair and bit his bottom lip as he tried to swallow a moan that threatened to escape past his lips. His cheeks flushed and Harry curled his fingers around Draco’s foot and pushed it into his crotch. Draco’s fingers flexed and curled into fists and he squirmed in his chair. The waiter chose exactly that moment to appear and remove their empty dessert plates and Harry pushed Draco’s foot firmly against his straining erection.

“Ngh,” Draco groaned and stared at the waiter with wide eyes. He flushed bright red, lowered his head, and tried to pull his foot away from Harry’s crotch. Unfortunately, the movement just caused him more agony and Harry made sure to keep an iron grip on Draco’s foot.

“Are you alright, Sir?”

“Ngh, yes, I’m _fine_ ,” Draco forced himself to answer and studiously avoided looking at the waiter.

“He’s all right, don’t worry. A little too much champagne, that’s all,” Harry smiled sweetly and pushed a fifty-pound-note into the waiter’s hand. “The bill, please.”  
  
“Thank you, Sir, and certainly.”

The waiter smiled and disappeared. Harry had no doubt that he knew exactly what the two of them were doing.

“Harry, please,” Draco panted.

“Please what?” Harry asked nonchalantly.

“Let go, please,”

“I quite like your foot where it is, it feels so good,” Harry said sweetly and shuffled a bit, causing Draco’s foot to slip a little. Draco slammed the flat of his hand onto the table, threw his head back and Harry watched with great pleasure as he tried and failed to swallow a long moan. He choked back half of it but the other half slipped past his lips and he flushed crimson.

“Ngh, Harry, please!” Draco whined, staring at him with big pleading eyes, panting as he tried and failed to control his breathing.

“Who do you reckon is going to come first, me or you?” Harry entirely ignored Draco’s plea and ground his hips against Draco’s foot.

“Ngh—” Draco moaned in response to that question and Harry laughed. “Do you want me to stop or do you want to come?” Harry asked and gracefully gave Draco a minute or two to collect himself.

“Please.”

Draco half-sobbed and curled his fingers around the edges of the table. He squeezed so hard that his knuckles turned white.

“Please stop? Please continue? I don’t know, Draco, you’re sending me mixed signals here.” Harry shrugged and ran his hand tenderly over Draco’s foot.

“Stop,” Draco breathed shakily and with a single tap of his finger, Harry ended the spell and allowed Draco’s foot to slip from between his legs. Draco slouched in his chair. Harry took pity on him and poured him a generous glass of champagne. He handed it to Draco, who accepted it with shaking hands and downed it in one go.

“You are the devil, Potter.”

Draco sighed and set the glass down on the table.

“And you’re devious,” Harry mumbled in response and watched as Draco closed his eyes and let his head fall back. He was still trying to come down from his high but Harry couldn’t find it in him to feel sorry for what he had done. Instead, he gave Draco a couple more moments to relax, settled the bill for their drinks and the champagne, and turned to look at the stage. The band had returned to continue the second half of their performance.

They warmed up, then settled into an upbeat jazzy tune that had Harry tapping his fingers on the table and his leg moving along to the rhythm. He caught Draco watching him, smiled, and winked.

“Want to dance, gorgeous?”

Draco’s eyes widened at the unexpected question.

“There are people around, are you sure you want to embarrass yourself like that?” Draco asked and Harry laughed. Apparently, Draco had found his sass again and wasn’t above dishing it out.

“I’ll chance it.”

Harry smiled and discreetly rearranged himself in his trousers. He rose to his feet and held his hand out for Draco to take.

“Birthday boy, would you do me the honour and dance with me?” he asked and after a moment’s hesitation, Draco placed his hand in Harry’s and Harry pulled him to his feet.

They headed out onto the dancefloor and the moment they’d reached the parquet, Harry whirled him around. Draco let out a small surprised shriek.

Harry smiled and made every effort to impress. They spun around the floor and Draco barely managed to keep up with Harry as he found himself repeatedly whirled around the floor. Gradually more people joined them and about half an hour later they were both breathless, Draco more so than Harry.

“Fucking hell, Potter, who are you and what have you done to the Boy Who Lived?” Draco panted as the music slowed a little and the band started a cover version of Frank Sinatra’s classic, _I’ve Got You Under My Skin_ , which Harry used as an excuse to pull Draco flush against his body and keep him there.

“Whipped him into shape, taught him how to dance,” Harry smiled breathlessly and swayed Draco from side to side.

“You are—” Draco broke off, looked at him and shook his head. “If I’m falling for you, it’s entirely your fault,” he whispered and a shudder of anticipation surged down Harry’s spine with the ferocity of a lightning bolt.

“Are you? Falling for me?” He wanted to know, leaning ever so close and almost brushing his lips against Draco’s in a teasing barely-there kiss.

“That’s for me to know and you to guess,” Draco whispered back and Harry groaned.

“Lord of sass,” he sighed and Draco winked.

“You love it.”

 _Correction, I love you_ , Harry mused and the thought sent a thrilling shudder of excitement through him.

He looked at Draco, lost himself in his beautiful pewter eyes and thought that _yes, yes indeed, yes, I love you_. The idea both horrified and fascinated him.

“You’re lucky I do,” he smiled and decided that now was not the time to declare his love to Draco. For now, he wanted to keep that feeling to himself for a little while longer.

“Yes, I do feel quite lucky,” Draco replied, leant in, and boldly stole a kiss.

Harry gave it willingly and when they pulled away, he lingered for a moment, then whispered a line from the song, “I’ve got you under my skin,” before the song faded out.

“I’d rather have you on my skin, naked, kissing every inch of me,” Draco sighed and his eyes visibly darkened. Harry growled in response and, pulling away, he grabbed Draco’s hand and dragged him off the dance floor and out onto the upper deck.

“Fresh air,” he explained and they moved to the back of the ship. Harry leant against the railing and took a few deep breaths. Draco opened his mouth, went to say something, but Harry placed a single finger across Draco’s lips and shook his head.

He gently pushed Draco against the railing, had him face the water and pressed up behind him. The sun had finally sunk and not only was it dark outside but they were also well-hidden in the shadows. The cool breeze made Harry shudder and he slipped his arms around Draco’s waist. Draco braced himself on the railing and Harry rested his chin on his shoulder.

“Tell me more,” he breathed hotly, pressed his lips against Draco’s jugular and kissed him fervently. Draco tilted his head sideways and moaned softly.

“Tell me exactly what it is you want me to do, Draco,” Harry whispered. Draco trembled in his arms and Harry tightened his hold on him.

“I— I want— I want—” Draco stammered.

“Yes? What do you want?” Harry asked.

“I want you to fuck me,” Draco whimpered and Harry slipped his hand underneath Draco’s shirt and caressed the hot, flushed and slightly perspired skin he found there.

“How do you want me to fuck you, Draco?” Harry mumbled against his throat and pressed another hot kiss against the pulsing vein beneath his lips. He gently nipped at the skin and Draco made a most delicious sound.

“I— I— I want— I don’t know— Ngh— _Fuck_ , Harry, just take me home and fuck me already,” Draco moaned.

Harry clicked his tongue.

“Tell me how.”

He mumbled the words to a spell he hadn’t used in a long time — _Amplifico Desiderium_ to increase desire combined with _Mulceo Sensus_  to increase Draco's perception of sensation for maximum effect.

The spell tingled all over Draco’s body and made him squirm in his arms. Harry tightened his hold, kissed his neck, and traced an ancient rune on the back of Draco’s hand. He was clutching the railing so hard that Harry couldn’t help but wonder whether Draco might end up breaking the steel contraption with his magic. It was wild and lashing about him uncoordinatedly.

“Ngh,” Draco threw his head back and let out a low whiny moan.

“What did you do to me? What spell— ngh, what spell was that— ngh—” he sobbed and Harry traced another ancient rune on the back of Draco’s hand. Draco trembled in his arms and his knees buckled.

“It’ll feel even better when— if you tell me exactly what it is you want, Draco,” Harry whispered.

“Tell me and I’ll make it happen, right here, right now.”

The spell he had cast made Draco feel exactly what he wanted to feel. If he wanted to feel Harry’s kisses all over his body, that was what he would feel. If he wanted to feel Harry’s hand wrapped around his cock, stroking him, getting him off, that was what he would feel. If he wanted to feel Harry sliding his fingers or his cock into him, fucking him, massaging his prostate, that was what he would feel.

“Fuck, Harry, please, just— _anything_ ,” Draco mumbled and practically mewled when Harry drew another rune on his hand. His knees buckled but Harry wasn’t in the least bit concerned, he had a tight grip on Draco.

“Anything, huh?” Harry breathed against Draco’s skin. It felt hot to the touch and tasted salty. Harry lapped at it and Draco moaned.

“I think you’ve had enough of this particular brand of magic for a night,” Harry whispered.

“No, no, no, no, don’t stop, don’t you dare stop, Potter, I swear I will kill you if you leave me like this,” Draco protested heavily. His ragged breathing was music to Harry’s ears.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Harry asked, wanting, no, needing to be completely sure that he was doing the right thing. He had lost control for a bit there when he had dragged Draco out onto the deck, but he hadn’t been able to help himself, had felt too wound up and too high strung to ignore what Draco did to him.

“Yes, yes, I’m sure,” Draco breathed heavily.

“Will you tell me to stop if it gets too much?” Harry whispered and Draco twisted his head around awkwardly to look at him.

“Yes, yes, I will,” he reassured and Harry frowned but could detect nothing in Draco’s eyes that made him wonder whether Draco was still in the possession of all his mental faculties.

“Good, well then, enjoy,” Harry chuckled and traced the outline of yet another ancient rune onto the back of Draco’s hand. Draco instantly melted in his arms, pursed his lips, and tried his best to hold back a long, shameless moan.

Harry whispered the incantation to a silencing charm and the sound barrier settled securely around them.

“Scream all you want, Draco,” he kissed Draco’s neck and Draco groaned but kept his mouth firmly shut. Harry drew the same ancient rune on Draco’s hand and this time Draco lost control and moaned, unabashedly.

“Hm, yes, that’s it, let me hear how much you like it,” Harry encouraged him and drew several ancient runes in rapid succession. Draco bucked violently in his arms, threw his head back and a strange sound escaped his lips. It wasn’t a groan or a moan, it wasn’t even a sob, it was something so much more primal, so much rawer. Harry’s cock leaked in his trousers and he thrust against Draco’s arse, letting him feel exactly how turned on he was by those beautiful sounds.

“Tell me what you want, come on,” Harry whispered, pushing the boundaries a little.

“T—t—touch me,” Draco stammered weakly.

“Touch you _where_ Draco?”

“Any—ngh—my cock, touch my cock.”

Draco begged and Harry slowly drew the corresponding ancient rune onto the back of Draco’s hand.

“F—fa—faster,” stuttered and Harry obliged.

He drew several ancient runes and Draco began to trash in his arms, repeatedly moaning, panting for air. His face was flushed with a fresh wave of arousal, his neck was blotchy and red and pearls of sweat glistened on his forehead. One drop of sweat rolled down past his temple and down his cheek. Harry caught it with his lips and pressed a kiss against Draco’s cheek. He drew another ancient rune and that one was Draco’s undoing. His hips bucked so wildly that Harry had to pull him off the railing and into his arms. He came willingly, turned, threw his arms around Harry’s shoulders and held on tight as his orgasm surged through him and he came hard inside his trousers.

“Ssssh, I’ve got you, you’re OK,” Harry whispered and hugged Draco tightly, letting him ride out his intense orgasm.

He cancelled the spell, half-carried and half-dragged Draco over to a nearby bench and sat him down. He sat down next to Draco, pulled him into his arms as he panted into his chest and tried to come down from the rollercoaster ride Harry had sent him on.

Harry stroked through Draco’s damp hair and mumbled a few spells to help Draco with getting more comfortable. The copious use of wandless magic sent a series of small shivers through Draco but other than that he refused to move. Somewhat worried that he had inadvertently brought Draco under and deep into subspace, Harry checked for his pulse and gently forced Draco to look at him. Draco looked at him with glazed eyes and the goofiest grin he had ever seen.

“You’re okay there?” Harry asked softly.

“Hm—, no—, not okay—, fucking high is what I am—,” Draco mumbled and giggled stupidly.

Harry rolled his eyes and gently smacked Draco over the back of his head.

“Ow, Potter, you wanna spank me, go for the arse, not the head,” Draco protested and for a split-second, Harry felt sorely tempted to pull Draco across his thighs and spank him. He resisted that urge and brushed a few stray strands of hair out of Draco’s face.

“I have no idea what the fuck you did there, but I like your brand of naughty.”

Draco sighed and Harry tried his hardest not to get overly excited.

“There’s more where that came from,” Harry whispered and drew Draco into a silencing kiss before he could ask any questions Harry didn’t have an answer to.

“Happy Birthday, little prince,” he whispered against Draco’s lips and was about to pull away when Draco stiffened in his arms, instantly withdrew, and crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes were blazing and Harry gulped. He hadn’t at all meant to say those two words aloud.  
  
“What did you just call me?” Draco inquired, glaring icy daggers and spewing murder.

Harry had the decency to shrink back a little because Draco Malfoy was seriously scary when he was angry.

“Potter, you insolent brat, I’ll have you know that there is _nothing_ little about me, absolutely nothing!” Draco snarled.

Harry, unable to control himself, cracked a grin, then chuckled and finally succumbed to a laughing fit, which ended with him yelping when Draco drew his wand and aimed a stinging hex at him.

“Ow, what the fuck was that for?” he complained.

“For not taking me seriously and calling me _little_ ,” Draco growled and Harry couldn’t help it. He fell victim to another laughing fit and slid off the bench when Draco hit him with not one, not two, but _three_ stinging hexes. Granted they were rather mild, but although Harry had a high threshold when it came to pain, they did manage to make him squirm.

“You insolent, good-for-nothing scoundrel of a boyfriend, don’t think for one moment that just because you gave me a mind-blowing orgasm, you’ll get away with murder now,” Draco spat and Harry found himself kneeling on the deck, clutching at his sides, laughing.

“Little prince is angry,” he teased and squirmed when yet another stinging hex hit him, then another, and another.

“Mercy,” he begged, still laughing.

Tears ran down his cheeks and as his eyes locked with Draco’s, he couldn’t help but notice that Draco’s expression had softened quite a bit and that there was even a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Mercy.”

Harry panted again, breathless, and weakly pulled himself back up onto the bench.

“Never,” Draco spoke with determination, straddled his thighs, and kissed Harry hard. Harry’s arms automatically wrapped around Draco’s waist and he pulled him close, relishing thoroughly in the kiss.

“Merlin’s beard, Draco, I can’t tell if you’re mad or still horny,” he breathed heavily when they pulled away.

“Both,” Draco laughed.

“Can I _please_ call you little prince?” Harry asked and gave Draco his best puppy dog eyes. Draco hesitated for a moment, then surrendered and nodded.

“That one stays between us though, if you use it in public, I won’t stop at a couple of stinging hexes, got that?”

“Don’t tell me you’ll add shackles?” Harry grinned mischievously and Draco rolled his eyes.

“No, I know a couple more effective spells than shackles,” he winked.

“Oh? Do tell, you’ll have to teach me all about them,” Harry teased.

“Like you don’t know them already,” Draco grinned. “I reckon dancing isn’t all you learnt in cold Canada, you also learnt how to fuck, didn’t you?”

“Perhaps.”

Harry shrugged and winked at Draco.

“But that’s for me to know and you to guess.”


	10. For The Love Of Kona

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)
> 
> The 10th chapter; would you like to learn a little bit about Draco’s past and what he got up to before The Saviour started courting him?
> 
> I’m also a little curious and would love to know what your favourite chapter so far is.

* * *

“Fucking hell!” Draco stumbled backwards and protested heavily as Kona, a beautiful fully-grown Golden Retriever, repeatedly jumped up at him and tried to lick his face. She waggled her tail with the greatest enthusiasm and when she finally managed to put both her front paws on his shoulders, Draco lost the battle and toppled to the ground. He found himself buried underneath approximately seventy-one pounds of furry dog and surrendered. He stretched his arms and legs and grumbled when Kona slobbered all over his face.

Thankfully, Malcolm came to his rescue and, grabbing Kona by the collar, he yanked her off Draco and firmly told her to sit. She did so with reluctance and Draco sat up, whipped his face with his sleeve and slowly got to his feet.

“Don’t be mad, she loves you, madly,” Malcolm shrugged.

Smiling, Draco crouched down in front of Kona and gave her the biggest hug ever.

She barked in agreement.

“It’s all good. I happen to love her too,” Draco smiled and got to his feet again. He surreptitiously managed to cast a wandless cleaning charm on his grey trousers to remove the grass stains and got rid of Kona’s slobber on his sleeve.

“Well, in that case, would you mind looking after her next week? Kaimana is getting married and I can’t bring Kona on the plane with me. I mean I could, but I’ll only be gone a week and it wouldn’t be fair to put her through nearly nineteen hours in the cargo hold twice.”

“I knew you had sinister intentions when you asked me out.”  
  
“I just wanted to catch up, it’s been a while.”

Draco crooked his head slightly to the side and raised an eyebrow at his ex-boyfriend.

“We were together for over two years; don’t you think I can see right through your little fibs?” he challenged Malcolm as they slowly made their way off the green and down the path that wound through the private park near Malcolm’s house. They walked in silence and Draco took a moment to look at Malcolm, really look at him.

They had broken up a few years ago but physically Malcolm hadn’t changed much. Well, his muscles were a little more prominent now but Draco expected nothing less from a man who loved to get up at five am in the morning to go for an hour-long run and who had practically grown up in the ocean, having learnt to surf before he had even learnt how to walk. His deep, natural tan was as alluring as ever but his hair was now much shorter than it had ever been. Shorter and messier.

For a moment, Draco’s thoughts drifted to Harry and he couldn’t help notice how much alike Harry and Malcolm were. They were of similar height and built, they both had messy, short dark hair and were rather bossy, though Draco put that down to both their jobs. Harry was preparing to take over the Auror Department and Malcolm ran his own advertising company, had successfully done so for many years. If he was entirely honest, which he didn’t want to be, the realisation that his ex-boyfriend had a lot in common with his current boyfriend scared Draco just a little bit.

“Hm, it was worth a try.”

Malcolm broke the silence between them and Draco snapped back to the present.

“But I also know that you’d never turn down a chance to look after Kona,” he smirked and Draco scoffed.

“You’re always so bloody sure of yourself.”

“I never got the feeling it bothered you.”

Malcolm winked.

“Me being married to my job bothered you, as did me forcing you to talk, to share the secrets locked away in that pretty head of yours, but my confidence never bothered you,” he said and as they prepared to leave the park, he put Kona on a leash. They crossed the road and seated themselves at a small table outside Malcolm’s favourite independent coffee shop.

Kona, attempting to show off that she was indeed well-behaved, crawled under the table and laid down with her snout resting on her front paws. Draco reached down and ran his fingers through her long fur. He ruffled her behind the ears and she looked up at him from under lowered lashes. Her dark brown eyes melted Draco’s heart and he slid off the chair and crouched on the floor to spoil her rotten.

When he heard Malcolm laughing, he twisted his head and glanced up at the man he had once been smitten with.

“If I’d known that you’re such a dog person, I’d have gotten Kona when we were still together. We’d probably be married by now,” he teased and Draco rolled his eyes.

“Wishful thinking on your part,” he replied and, sitting back down, he reached for the menu. He skimmed over it and when the waitress arrived to take their orders, he asked for a cappuccino and a raspberry tart.

“Flat White, extra shot and a plain cheese and cucumber bagel, please,” Malcolm said. When the waitress disappeared, he folded his arms across his chest, leant back in his chair and looked at Draco.

Draco held his gaze for the longest time but eventually grew impatient and frowned.

“What?” he asked.

“You’re seeing someone,” Malcolm stated matter-of-factly.

“And what if I am?” Draco replied flippantly.

Malcolm merely shrugged and grinned at him.

“Nothing, I’m happy for you. Although, I will admit that I’m a little jealous. The sex must be amazing, you’re practically glowing. If I wasn’t one-hundred per cent sure that you have a cock and balls I’d be inclined to assume that you’ve got a bun in the oven.”

At that blunt statement, Draco coughed and blushed a little. He reached for the carafe of lemon-flavoured water and poured himself a glass then took a few careful sips and swallowed a sigh. He was convinced that sex with Harry would be mind-blowingly good, but unfortunately, he had yet to experience the real thing. Apart from that handjob on the morning of his birthday and the kinky spell Harry had cast on him in the evening, the one that had made him come harder than he had ever come in his entire life, he was woefully unknowledgeable and very much lacked the experience of what it felt like to have sex with Harry.

He wanted nothing more than for Harry to fuck him senseless but somehow, Harry never let go enough for that to happen. He seemed to want to and Draco was no fool, he could tell that Harry wanted him as much as he wanted Harry, which was why the whole thing was so confusing. He had by now gathered that Harry was more of the controlling type and while it sometimes drove him around the bend, he couldn’t deny how much it also turned him on. He liked the way Harry made him feel, liked how Harry focused all his attention on him, liked how Harry made him feel like he was the most precious, most fascinating, most alluring person in the room.

But all of that made it even harder to understand why Harry always pulled away. He had never worked so hard at trying to get a man into his bed before, even getting Malcolm into his bed hadn’t been that hard. With Harry, however, no matter what he tried, Harry’s resolve seemingly never broke. Sure, it faltered but Harry always managed to get a grip on himself, to pull back, to remain in control.

Draco was rapidly getting frustrated, especially because following his birthday, Harry was now blowing cold again. They were back to heated kisses and sensual caresses and every time Harry pulled away, Draco found himself left with a painfully throbbing erection he had to deal with all by himself.

“Earth to Draco Malfoy!”

Malcolm’s voice cut right through Draco’s thoughts and he snapped out of his reverie as Malcolm clapped his hands right in front of his face. By now, the waitress had brought them their beverages and their food and Draco realised that he had properly lost himself in his thoughts and ignored Malcolm entirely.

“Sorry,” he apologised and flushed a little, feeling mildly embarrassed.

“Were you having a sex dream? You looked rather blissed out,” Malcolm teased and Draco really wanted to throw a stinging hex at him. He reminded himself of the fact that Malcolm was a Muggle and didn’t know anything about magic and therefore resisted the temptation.

“I was _not_ having a sex dream,” Draco objected vehemently and added two bags of sugar to his cappuccino. When Malcolm shook his head, he frowned.

“I’ll never understand how you stay this fit with all the sugar and sweets you consume.”

“I’ve got excellent metabolism.”

“Are you sure it’s just that? Apparently, daily sex is just as good as a regular workout.”

“Tell Harry that…” Draco mumbled under his breath. He sipped on his coffee and when Malcolm pointed out that he had foam stuck to his top lip, he elegantly licked it off.

“So, Harry is your new beau’s name,” Malcolm smiled. “How long’s that been going on now then?”

“Few months.”

Draco shrugged and, quite uncharacteristically for him, he leant forward, placed his elbow on the wrought iron table and rested his cheek against his palm.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” Malcolm smiled.

“I remember, we danced around each other for about two weeks before we finally—” Draco trailed off, not quite sure how to phrase his question. It wasn’t that he was shy when it came to talking about sex, quite on the contrary. It was just that the whole thing seemed so ridiculous and he wasn’t sure whether discussing his current relationship with his former lover was such a good idea. He and Malcolm had become very good friends after their relationship had fizzled out, but he still couldn’t help feeling weird about asking for Malcolm’s opinion.

“Fucked?” Malcolm offered straight up and without the least bit of hesitation.

Draco nodded.

“Was that too quick or too slow or, just right?”

“For us? Just right, I’d say,” Malcolm answered and Draco sighed. “Why? What’s the matter? Trouble in paradise with your beau Harry?”

Draco shrugged.

“It’s been over a month and nothing. Well, he’s given me a hand job and the way he kisses me…sometimes it feels like I—”

“Could come from that alone?” Malcolm finished his sentence yet again and in response, Draco stuffed a large bite of his raspberry tart into his mouth. He swallowed half of it, then nodded.

“Is he a virgin?” Malcolm asked with such candour that Draco nearly choked on his tart. He coughed, reached for his glass of water, and took a large sip.

“No, most definitely not,” he vehemently shook his head and cleared his throat.

“Then you’re not straightforward enough, you do rather enjoy taking the backseat,” Malcolm smiled and Draco glared at him.

“I’ve asked him to bend me over my desk and fuck me hard. If that’s not straightforward enough then I don’t know what is,” he sighed.

“Did you take your clothes off before you offered that?” Malcolm chuckled and Draco growled. The temptation to kick Malcolm under the table was almost irresistible but he knew that Kona would likely have an issue with him assaulting her master.

“I did not,” he said pointedly. “I may be a little slutty occasionally but I’m not a whore.”

“Your sluttiness is hot, Draco, there’s nothing cheap about it. I always found it a big turn on,” Malcolm said and Draco relaxed somewhat. “Now, do tell me more about your mysterious lover boy Harry. I’m afraid, knowing what I know now I can’t offer you any useful advice.”

Draco hesitated for a moment, then lost his resolve and told Malcolm absolutely everything.

He told him about how he and Harry knew each other and about their less than amicable past, told him how they had rather unexpectedly bumped into each other after having been out of touch for years and how much Harry had changed. He described Harry in such vivid detail that it almost felt like Harry was sitting at the table with them, listening to him, just as Malcolm was listening to him.

He told Malcolm how confident Harry had become, how funny he was and how intensely stimulating conversations with him were. What with Malcolm being a Muggle, Draco left out anything that was even just remotely related to magic but he didn’t need to describe Harry’s magical abilities to paint a vivid picture of the man who had well and truly stolen his heart away.

He told Malcolm all about Harry’s inclination to be bossy and make decisions for them both and how he thought that it stemmed from the fact that Harry was getting ready to run a major law enforcement department all on his own. He described several of their dates in graphic detail and didn’t shy away from telling Malcolm exactly how he felt when Harry took charge and how he practically melted at Harry’s words and how it felt so right to just give in and let Harry take control of everything.

By the time he had finished, he was slightly breathless, just a little flushed and fighting off an erection.

Malcolm merely smiled at him, sipping on a fresh cup of coffee he had ordered halfway through Draco’s detailed description.

“What?” Draco asked, feeling mildly unsettled.

Growing up, he had never been the sort of person who laid it all bare, had always preferred to keep his cards close to his chest. Over the years, things had, however, changed. He found it easier to share things, easier to expose parts of himself, easier to be honest and relished in allowing himself to, at times, be a little vulnerable. It came at a price but it also came with rewards and thus far, Draco had no regrets. He couldn’t help but wonder whether opening up and letting the enigma that was Harry Potter into his heart would be his first regret.

“You are head over heels in love with the man,” Malcolm stated with a sly grin.

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

Draco sighed and did a double-take.

He stared at Malcolm, eyes wide, shell-shocked at how easy that confession had slipped past his lips. He had been thinking about it more and over other the last few days and especially since the magical day Harry had planned for his birthday, but had, at the same time, felt hesitant to admit his feelings to himself.

“Hm, I could tell you about a lot of things you don’t know, I do have a couple of years on you, but I won’t. I have the feeling you might hate me for saying this, but I think you should figure this out on your own, without me telling you what I think.”

“Well, you’re of no help at all now, are you? I’ve been racking my brain and wanking myself raw over that man and all you tell me is that I should figure it out on my own. Figure what out exactly? Harry Potter is a paradox, a contradiction in every sense of the way, I haven’t got the foggiest idea where to start or how to go about figuring him out,” Draco snapped exasperatedly and growled in frustration. He watched as Malcolm reached across the table, placed his hand on top of Draco’s and squeezed gently.

“Relax,” he said with his calming, yet authoritative, voice and Draco, despite not wanting to, felt some of his frustration seep from his body.

“I’ll tell you one thing, one thing that’s blindingly obvious to me, but maybe not to you. Feel free to disagree with me, but I do know you quite well and I think I’m right when I say that letting Harry take charge is the best thing for you. He’s the yin to your yang, you’re in perfect balance.”

“I’ve no idea what you’re trying to say,” Draco sighed.

“You’ll have figured it out before the year’s out. I’m fairly sure of that,” Malcolm smiled and Draco let out an audible breath.

“I would tell you more, but I really think you need to do this without me giving you all the answers,” Malcolm added and Draco noted that he sounded somewhat apologetic.

“Thanks,” he mumbled and Malcolm squeezed his hand one last time, then pulled away and drank his coffee instead. Draco watched him with a frown, then decided that his brain desperately needed a break and, sliding off his chair, he crouched down in front of Kona and pulled her head onto his lap. She came willingly and nuzzled him with her wet snout. He ruffled her fur and lovingly petted her head. She barked once in appreciation. Turning his head, Draco looked up at Malcolm.

“Can I keep her for the afternoon?”  
  
Malcolm smiled.

“Of course,” he said. “I’ll leave her with you this week and next week, if you want,” he offered.

“Are you sure she won’t miss you?”

“She’ll get over it,” Malcolm laughed. “She’s rather easy when it comes to hot gay blondes who shower her with love.”

Draco rolled his eyes and decided not to comment on Malcolm latest veiled compliment. He had always been the flirty type and Draco didn’t even blame him for it.

“Give my best to Kaimana then,” he offered, remembering that Malcolm had told him that his younger sister was getting married. Malcolm had dragged him all the way to Hawaii once during their relationship and they had spent a marvellous month on the island. Over the course of their stay, Draco had met all of Malcolm’s immediate and extended family. He had also learnt that Malcolm’s actual Hawaiian name was Maleko, although hardly anyone outside of his family called him that. Even his close friends and co-workers here in London called him Mal which worked perfectly as a short form for both Maleko and Malcolm.

“I will,” Malcolm smiled and handed Draco Kona’s leash. “I’ll drop all her stuff off tonight. Eight all right with you?”

Draco nodded. “Address hasn’t changed,” he added with a grin.


	11. The Real Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)  
> 
> 
> Well, now that you’ve met someone (and his dog) who is important to Draco, let me take you on a trip to meet a couple of people that are very important to Harry. I’d love to know what you think about those people.

* * *

Harry apparated into Ottery St. Catchpole and, emerging from behind one of the buildings, he glanced at his watch and cursed under his breath. He was running late, later than usual, as the meeting with Kingsley had taken longer than he had anticipated. Quickening his pace, Harry headed for the main road, and crossed a small bridge that lead over the River Otter. He left the small town behind and made his way to The Burrow.

Less than ten minutes later he walked down a two-track lane and soon enough the Weasley family residence came into view. Over the years, it hadn’t lost any of its magic and it was still Harry’s favourite place to be. It was a remarkable sight, one that took his breath away in the most tentative of ways. The closer he came, the more he felt like he was about to enter his own home and soon enough the front door swung open and a young boy with flaming red hair raced towards him.

Harry had just about enough time to spread his arms wide open and steady his stance. Teddy collided with his chest, full force, threw his arms around him and Harry hugged him tightly, lifted him up and spun him round and round. Teddy squealed excitedly and his laughter was music to Harry’s ears. He stopped slowly and didn’t even attempt to set Teddy down, for the boy had locked his legs around his midriff and was holding on for dear life.

“Harry! I missed you!” Teddy exclaimed excitedly and repeatedly kissed first his right cheek, then his left cheek.

“I missed you too, you little tyke.”

Harry chuckled and walked towards The Burrow. He smiled at Andromeda, who was standing at the front door, waiting to welcome them both.

“He was worried you wouldn’t show,” Andromeda said as she stepped aside to let them into the house.

“I said I would come, you know I’m a man of my word,” Harry replied and attempted to set Teddy down, but his godson refused to let go of him. With a resigned sigh, he gave up on ridding himself of his human attachment and looked around the place instead.

Hermione sat on the sofa, cooing over one-year-old baby Rose and Ron was sitting on the armrest beside her, Butterbeer in hand. George and Angelina stood by the window, deeply engrossed in conversation. Their children, as well as Bill and Fleur’s, were running around in the garden, under the supervision of their grandfather Arthur Weasley, who was in his element trying to entertain five children, with the oldest being only six.

He was in the company of Bill and Fleur, who stood to the side, apparently content to take a back seat from parenting for a couple of hours. Percy had perched himself on the armrest of a comfortable but worn armchair and was cradling a little baby while talking to his heavily pregnant wife Audrey. Ginny, Harry thought, was likely hiding upstairs which she didn’t do to be unsocial but it was just her thing. He knew that she had a busy schedule what with playing professionally for the Holyhead Harpies and she relished in a bit of peace and quiet before the madness that was a family dinner at the Weasley Residence.

“There are way too many children around,” Harry sighed and Andromeda laughed.

“Weasley tradition,” she said with a twinkle in her eyes. “Molly’s in her element, of course. I was trying to help but she’s kicked everyone out of her domain, the mad woman that she is. Two wands cast twice as many spells.”

“I’m feeling bold today, I think I’ll venture into the lion’s den.”

Harry grinned and glanced at Teddy, who had turned his hair bright purple. He tickled him until his godson squirmed in his arms and pleaded for mercy.

“Are you coming with me, monkey, or are you going to join the others outside?”

“I’m not leaving your arms ever again!” Teddy said with a most serious expression and Harry bit back a chuckle and nodded solemnly.

“Right, joined at the hip we are then.”

He readjusted his hold on Teddy and turned to face Andromeda.

“You officially have the evening off.”

“Oh yes, thank Merlin! I’m dying for a Gin and Tonic,” Andromeda approved and clapped her hands as she headed off into the living room to help herself to a drink from Arthur Weasley’s personal bar. Harry took another moment to look around the place and smiled as a wave of peaceful happiness washed over him; to this day the Burrow still felt more home than Grimmauld Place.

He had felt this way ever since his first visit well over a decade ago and over the years the feeling had only intensified. The Burrow was always buzzing with life, always felt homely, always smelt of baked goods and freshly cooked food and there was so much love and magic around the place, Harry couldn’t help but feel oddly at ease. The last few months at work had been crazy and in less than a week, Kingsley Shacklebolt would formally introduce him as Director Potter, Head of the Auror Department and Assistant Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

He had his moments when he wondered whether, at the young age of twenty-six, he was ready to shoulder that much responsibility but then he remembered that he had carried a far greater burden at a much younger age. He had also helped to turn Teddy into a sweet, loving, well-behaved child and somehow the knowledge of all that kept his panic at bay.

Harry tried not to think about Draco but with so many children and couples around, his heart wholly thwarted his plans and he couldn’t help but imagine convincing Draco to join him for Sunday Dinner at the Burrow. He imagined that it would take quite some effort to persuade Draco to spend an afternoon with the entire Weasley clan but he had a few rather brilliant ideas of how to get Draco to surrender.

A mischievous smile spread over his face and Harry was almost grateful when Teddy poked him between the ribs. He shifted a little and resolutely shook himself out of his thoughts, playfully growled at his godson and launched another tickle attack on him.

Teddy squirmed, thrashed about in his arms and Harry laughed. He thoroughly enjoyed horsing around with Teddy and often forgot that Teddy was just his godson.

In Harry’s mind, they were family and he thought of Teddy as his son. Somehow, nothing less would do. He had even spoken to Andromeda about formally adopting the boy and her response had been one of cool nonchalance.

 _He thinks of you as his father anyway_ , she had told him over a glass of red wine and promised him to gather all the information required to start formal adoption proceedings.

“Harry, please, can’t breathe,” Teddy complained and Harry eased up on his tickle attack.

He shuffled Teddy from his right hip to his left and made his way into the kitchen to finally say hello to his adoptive mother, the Weasley matriarch and the only woman in the entire world who managed to bring out his submissive side. With her he didn’t even try to argue, there simply was no point. She always had the final say. It was the golden rule nobody ever dared to break. They, and Harry included himself there, were far too afraid of the consequences.

While small in stature, Molly Weasley was a force to be reckoned with. She had a razor-sharp tongue, a witty disposition and a natural kind of absentmindedness that was endearing. However, what Harry loved the most about Molly was her heart of gold and the endless love she always showered him with. She always treated him like one of her own, and never like the Boy Who Lived or The Chosen One. To her, he was just Harry.

Finally setting Teddy, who almost instantly wrapped his arms around his waist, down, Harry casually leant against the kitchen doorframe and watched Molly bustle around, waving her wand with such precision that Harry felt a little dizzy. He hugged Teddy with one arm and grinned from ear to ear when Molly finally noticed his presence.

“Harry!” she exclaimed with the greatest vigour and Harry pushed himself away from the doorframe. He found himself engulfed in the bone-crushing hug a moment later and wondered for the millionth time how it was possible that little Molly Weasley was seemingly stronger than he was. She could battle a dragon with her bare hands.

 _Scratch that_ , Harry chuckled inwardly, _the dragon would bow without a fight_.

Molly Weasley’s stern glare was almost more terrifying than her sharp tongue.

Teddy squealed in protest between them both, huffed and petulantly turned his hair blue. He stalked off, announcing that he intended to find someone who had no intention to squash him half to death.

“Try your Aunt Gin!” Harry called after him and winked at Molly, who chuckled with amusement.

“Sorry for being late, Molly. Meeting with Kingsley ran overtime.”

“Never you mind that, my sweet boy, I’m just glad that you’re finally here,” Molly beamed. Motioning towards the dishes she wondered whether he might like to give her a hand.

Harry's eyes widened with genuine surprise.

“Are you sure?”

Molly nodded.

“Can I bribe you with an extra slice of treacle tart?” she asked with twinkling eyes and Harry licked his lips.

“Yes Ma’am, what needs doing?”

“Less of the Ma’am, for starters,” Molly chided, waving her cooking ladle about.

“Sir then?” Harry teased and she whacked him with a kitchen towel.

“Get started on cleaning those pots there, then help me make the whipped cream and tell Ron to set the table.”

Harry wrinkled his nose.

“I’m not sure he’ll listen to me. Best friends and all that jazz.”

Molly’s answer to that was to holler Ron’s name at the top of her lungs and less than ten seconds later her youngest son appeared in the kitchen.

“Mum?”

“Be a darling and set the table,” Molly commanded and Harry noted that Ron didn’t even try to argue. He thought it rather hilarious. Growing up, Ron had always tried talking back but since he and Hermione had gotten married, he had turned into a rather obedient young man. Harry supposed much of that was Hermione’s doing. When she was on a roll it was rather difficult to get a word in edgewise.

“Sure.”

Ron disappeared to follow through and do what he was told. Harry busied himself with scrubbing the pots and plates in the sink and although he could have done it all with a few magic spells, he chose to do it the Muggle way. He wanted something menial to do, something that didn’t require the use of his brain. Today had been a rather long day at the Ministry and Harry’s head buzzed with all the information he had soaked up. It was a never-ending avalanche of knowledge and Kingsley expected him to remember it all.

His thoughts began to drift and soon enough they settled on Draco. A few days had passed since his birthday and Harry knew that Draco was probably seething, possibly even plotting his demise and he could hardly blame him for it. He felt decidedly guilty. Draco had made several, obvious passes at him over the last few days and while Harry had partly given in, he made sure to remain firmly in control of the situation and pull back before things got out of hand. He simply couldn’t shake feeling that he had somewhat overstepped the line with that spell he had used.

He knew that he was probably overthinking everything and with each passing day it got harder and harder to say no to Draco. Especially because he didn’t want to say no in the first place. He wanted Draco with every fibre of his body and he was sure that Draco rather enjoyed his dominant side, but Harry was also very unsure, of how far he could take things before he went _too_ far. He felt that he should probably just sit Draco down and tell him the truth, but somehow it felt like it was far too early in their relationship for him to do that. The last he wanted was to scare Draco off. No, for that he cared far too much about him, loved him too deeply.

“Potter.”

A familiar husky male voice whispered directly into his ear, making him jump nearly half a mile out of his skin,

“I’m pretty sure my mum asked you to clean those pots, not stare at the wall in a daze.”

Harry just about managed to choke down a yelp that threatened to slip past his lips.

“Fuck’s sake, Charlie!” he snapped and whirled around. He tried but failed to duck away from Molly’s kitchen towel.

“Mind your mouth in my kitchen!” she reprimanded him and Harry blushed like a school girl.

“Sorry, Mrs Weasley,” he mumbled, reverting to calling her by her last time, something he always did when she scolded him and he had to apologise. He turned to glare at Charlie, who smirked devilishly.

“Bastard,” he mouthed and Charlie chuckled.

“I’ll catch you later, servant boy,” he mocked and Harry cast a wandless stinging hex towards Charlie’s arse. Unfortunately, Charlie was a split-second faster and with a swoosh of his hand, he redirected the hex. Harry blocked it with a plain shield charm and Molly clapped them both around the head.

“If you think I will allow you to duel in _my_ kitchen, you’ve got another thing coming!” she barked and both Harry and Charlie shrunk under her reproachful gaze.

“Charlie, go cut some firewood!”

“ _Ma_ , it’s the middle of summer!” Charlie protested but Molly merely gave him a pointed glare. He obediently lowered his head and nodded.

“Yes, Ma,” he said quietly and Harry chuckled into his hand. Charlie glowered at him but it only made Harry laugh more.

“Honestly, boys!” Molly shook her head and shot Charlie one more pointed glare.

“Already gone,” he said, holding his hand up in surrender and vanished from the kitchen.

Harry turned his attention back on the dishes and, squirming underneath Molly’s scrutinising glance, he gave scrubbing the plates and pots his best. He still hated the task, the Dursleys had always made him clean and scour everything, but somehow it was different when Molly asked for his help. When she asked, it felt almost like an honour, not a punishment of some kind.

“There’s something different about you,” Molly observed after a moment of silence and Harry turned his head to look at her.

“Good or bad?”

“Good, definitely good,” she smiled.

“Are you seeing someone, Harry, sweetheart?”

“Erm,” Harry hemmed and hawed a bit, not quite sure how to answer Molly’s question since he hadn’t expected it at all and while her sixth sense no longer scared him it still surprised him, still caught him off guard.

“That would be a yes then.”

Molly smiled knowingly and Harry sighed and gave a small nod.

“Early days, Molly, let me keep it to myself a little longer, okay? I’ll promise, when I’m ready to tell, you’ll be the first to know,” he said.

He was, in fact, ready to tell Molly right now, but he wasn’t entirely sure how she would react to the news that he was dating none other than Draco Malfoy. He didn’t think she would make a scene, but just to be on the safe side, he decided to tell her when it was just the two of them and not a house filled with overexcited children and the entire Weasley clan.

“That’s perfectly all right, my dear. I just hope that your strapping gentleman treats you with the love and respect you deserve.”

Harry smiled. He knew exactly what she was hinting at. She was forever worried that his partners were just with him for his fame and was very fond of her fierce protectiveness. It made him feel utterly loved and wanted. Molly Weasley had long since adopted him as her eighth child and he had no objections. He loved her like a mother and having grown up without his own mother he appreciated her unconditional love and support more than anything.

Feeling just a little sentimental, Harry quickly cleaned the last pot and dried his hands on a small towel. He wrapped his arms around Molly and planted a big, sloppy his on her cheek.

“I love you,” he whispered and smiled when Molly sniffed a little.

“Oh, off you go with that nonsense, boy.”

When he stepped back, she mutely shoved a big bowl and a whisk at him.

“Make yourself useful now, Harry,” she said with a warm smile and Harry laughed. He accepted the bowl and the whisk and started whipping the cream, slowly turning it into a thick creamy foam.


	12. A Surprising Piece Of Information

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)
> 
> Alright, I'd like to dedicate this chapter to the wonderful ["Easy4Weasley"](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Easy4Weasley) because, well, you know why, you beautiful soul. I heart you, so this is for you (and I promise it won't be the only one).

* * *

Feeling thoroughly sated, completely stuffed and just a little tipsy, Harry, a tumbler of Firewhiskey in hand, made his way outside into the garden. Looking up at the starry night sky, he took a deep breath of fresh country air. It made his head spin a little more, he steadied himself on the open back door and focused his attention on Teddy, who was horsing around with Victoire. Most of the younger kids were already fast asleep but those two, being of nearly similar age, still had the energy to goof around with George, who was entertaining them with tiny magical fireworks.

After dinner everyone had remained seated around the table and, as it was customary, they had all shared news about what was going on in their lives while enjoying Molly’s divine desserts. Harry had polished off three slices of treacle tart and he didn’t even feel bad about it.

Ron had, of course, teased him mercilessly about his addiction but he had merely pointed out that Ron never stopped eating and had asked Hermione whether it had, in fact, been Ron who had given birth to their daughter and whether he was planning to carry the next one too. While everyone at the table had dissolved into laughter, Ron had flushed bright red and muttered something about revenge to which Harry had smugly thought, _I’d like to see you try_.

Sometime after everyone had finished their desserts and the children, now high on sugar after having wolfed down large helpings of ice-cream, had started running around the house, the rest of the family had scattered about the Burrow or the garden.

Percy and Audrey had left just after dessert and Harry didn’t blame them.

Spotting Charlie lounging on an old broad wooden bench, a bottle of Muggle beer in hand, Harry let go of the back door and made his way over to his honorary big brother. He playfully shoved Charlie’s legs off the bench and plonked down next to him. He held his glass out to Charlie, who bumped his beer bottle against it in a silent toast. They both drank and, leaning back on the bench, Harry stretched his legs out.

“Where’s Liam?” he wanted to know. He had noticed the young man’s absence over dinner but hadn’t had the opportunity to ask until now.

“Naughty boy is naked on his knees scrubbing the bathroom…with a toothbrush. Better be spotless when I come home or it’ll be a nice spanking he gets,” Charlie replied with a self-satisfied smile and Harry chuckled into his Firewhiskey before taking another sip.

“What’d he do?”

“Mouthed off at me,” Charlie answered. “Got a stern look first, but just kept going. Really pushed me.”

“Is Master getting soft? I’d have thought you’d dish out a tougher punishment for that,” Harry smirked. “I know you don’t like your sub mouthing off at you.”

“Would’ve,” Charlie shrugged, “except dinner with the family didn’t leave me with enough time to do anything. Also, he’s been rather good lately, so I decided to practice a little bit of leniency. Does occasionally work and even if it doesn’t there’s still time to make him squirm later.”

“Hm.”

Harry nodded in silent agreement.

While Charlie had been on the scene far longer, Harry knew from personal experience that tough punishments didn’t always yield the desired results. There were several reasons why a sub might act out and simply punishing them for the sake of punishing them was never the answer. Any good Dom knew that. A punishment also wasn’t always a punishment. There were actual sanctions, a nearly endless list of possibilities, and then there were punishments intended to bring pleasure to both the Dom and the sub. The catalogue of funishments, as Harry preferred to call them, was also a nearly endless list of possibilities. Of course, always within the agreed limits.

“What about you, then? Got yourself a new sub? I think last we spoke, you were training someone for Caleb.”

“Not a sub, but a boyfriend.”

Harry divulged what he knew would be a surprising piece of information and turned his head to look at Charlie, who appraised him silently, then chuckled.

Harry wasn’t quite sure what had made him tell Charlie about his recent change in relationship status but there wasn’t much about him that Charlie didn’t know. In fact, Harry was sure that there really wasn’t anything Charlie didn’t know. For that, they had known each other long enough, had been too close, had shared too much.

Feeling a sudden itch on his wrist, Harry sat his tumbler glass down and pushed his watch up to reveal a faint, thin uneven scar that ran horizontally across his right wrist, the remnants of an old wound from a long time ago, a wound Charlie had helped to heal. He rubbed his thumb across the white line and sighed softly.

Charlie almost immediately placed his hand on top of his to still his movement.

“Don’t go there,” he whispered and Harry didn’t resist when Charlie removed his hand.

“Tell me, Harry Potter, are you going vanilla on me then? Or are you changing the solid laws of any good Dom/sub relationship because they’re about to name you Director Potter, The Saviour Who Lived?”

Charlie smiled and Harry momentarily lost himself in Charlie’s chocolate-brown eyes. There was something so intensely warm about them, something that promised eternal safety, and just like that Charlie pulled him off the ledge and his dark thoughts dispersed into nothingness. His wrist ceased to itch and, covering the scar with his watch, he reached for his Firewhiskey and took a small sip.

“Ha, bloody, ha.”

Harry rolled his eyes in response to Charlie’s deliberate mocking.

“Out with it, who’s your new sweetheart then? Anyone, I know? Muggle? Wizard?”

Charlie pushed him, which is what he usually did, and Harry hesitated for the longest moment. Longer than he usually did when he talked to Charlie but instead of asking for more details, he just waited, patiently, calmly.

Eventually, Harry gave in. Steadily holding his gaze, he let one name, and one name only, fall from his lips.

“Draco Malfoy,” he whispered, not even sure why he was whispering.

He cleared his throat, drank more of his Firewhisk ~~e~~ y and searched Charlie’s eyes and face for any hint that he was surprised or shocked. He found neither and frowned slightly as he swallowed an irrational bout of nervousness.

“Inevitable, really. I have it on good authority that you really were quite obsessed with him back in the day,” Charlie smiled softly, fondly even.

“Exactly _how_ kinky is he then? Spill… Somehow, I always imagine Slytherins have all sorts of weird kinks, what with Slytherin House being down in the dungeons. Bad prejudice on my part, I know, but I just can’t shake it.”

Charlie’s smile grew into a dirty smirk and for a moment Harry contemplated smacking him, but he knew that Charlie, given that he worked as a dragon-tamer, had impeccable reaction skills. When Harry didn’t answer his question, Charlie tilted his head sideways and his eyes widened in silent realisation.

“He doesn’t know, does he?”

Harry sighed and gave a small nod. He stared into his tumbler and wondered whether he could charm the remains of his Firewhiskey to swallow him up. He sensed that a very uncomfortable conversation was imminent and while he had wanted to talk to Charlie, he felt a little bit unsettled now that Charlie had, with practically no effort at all, pulled a ton of information out of him.

“Well, this won’t do, will it now?” Charlie spoke and a few moments later a half-full bottle of Firewhiskey flew into his hand.

He opened it, refilled the tumbler and Harry smiled gratefully and took a rather large sip. He absolutely could do with some Dutch courage.

“Now, tell me everything.”

Charlie coaxed gently and set the bottle of Firewhiskey down. He placed his hand on Harry’s knee and squeezed just firmly enough to help Harry focus. Harry shuddered, tried his best to order his thoughts and, placing his own hand on top of Charlie’s bigger one, he squeezed softly, then rearranged himself to sit cross-legged on the bench. Straightening his back, he took a deep breath, then cleared his throat. He launched into a lengthy, and extremely detailed summary of literally everything that had happened since he and Draco had rekindled their acquaintance.

He started with how he had bumped into Draco by chance and how he had instantly been fascinated by how much Draco had changed and the person he had become. Harry described Draco in vivid detail and told Charlie how hard he found it to control himself around Draco. He told Charlie that Caleb was now dating the sub he had spent three months training and that he turned into this big softie whenever he talked about Stefan. He even briefly mentioned the incident at the munch.

He confessed how Caleb had told him to grow a pair of balls instead of letting an opportunity at loving somebody slip right through his fingers and then launched into a long-winded recount of how naturally submissive Draco seemed to be and how much he seemed to enjoy it when Harry took charge, even though there were moments when he appeared to be annoyed by it. He left out no detail about the times when Draco had, on several occasions, blatantly asked him to fuck him but how he had, so far, always held back. He told Charlie about the hand job and the spell he had used on Draco and finally spilt his guts about how afraid he was to lose control and go too far with Draco.

By the time he finished, he was just a little breathless and probably a little drunker than he had been when he started baring his soul to Charlie. Harry fell silent and, to calm his frazzled nerves, he downed the Firewhiskey left in his tumbler and relished in the way it burned down his throat. Still feeling edgy, he aimlessly toyed with the glass in his hand while he tried to patiently wait for Charlie to digest everything he had heard. The silence was killing him, but he didn’t want to push Charlie into giving his opinion, he knew better than to do that to any of his friends.

Eventually, Charlie put him out of his misery and smiled warmly.

“You really are head over heels in love, aren’t you?” he said softly and although he had phrased it as a question it really was more of a statement.

Harry couldn’t help but nod.

“Merlin, yes, yes, fucking yes, I’m in so deep I scare myself.”

Harry let the words burst out of him. A huge wave of relief washed over him at having finally admitted his feelings for Draco aloud.

“Can I give it to you straight?”

Harry appreciated Charlie asking, but he knew that no matter his answer, Charlie would still tell him exactly what he thought. That was why Harry had spilt it all to him. He wanted his advice, craved it like a drug he had deprived himself of for way too long. That metaphor was perhaps a little strong, but these past few days Harry had been going stir crazy and needed someone to help him sort his thoughts.

“First off, you worry too much, way too much. I absolutely get why you have serious feelings for Draco and him not knowing about your preference for kink—”

“I think he has a bit of an idea,” Harry interrupted and Charlie gave him a stern look but didn’t say anything else.

“As I said, Draco not knowing about your preference for kink, or the level of your preference for it, does make it difficult, but not overly so. You should tell him, preferably sooner rather than later, otherwise, he will feel cheated on. He’ll feel like you just toyed with him, like all you wanted was a good time at the expense of his trust. You, more than anyone, know exactly what I’m talking about. In saying that, from what you’ve told me, he does seem to have a mild penchant for kink, maybe even more so than he himself realises.

“If you’re happy with keeping things vanilla and adding a bit of spice every now and then because you like— _love_ him this much and if you think that you can keep doing this, then go for it. _But_ , Harry, you can’t keep blowing hot or cold at him, it’s not fair, not even in a proper D/s relationship. There’s orgasm denial and then there’s torture and while we both know that there are some extremists who are into the latter, I know you’re not one of those people. Honestly, you’re just torturing yourself and I’d laugh if I didn’t know it would hurt you. For the love of Circe, he’s practically begging you to fuck him and you’re still finding ways to deny yourself a good time. You truly are a special brand of masochistic.”

Harry took a moment to digest everything Charlie told him. He hadn’t said anything new but it felt good to hear it all from somebody else. Caleb had said pretty much the same, though in not so many words. Why did jumping over his own shadow seem like such an arduous challenge then? He was afraid, Harry knew that much, but somehow the knowledge of that didn’t help much. Maybe—

Charlie interrupted him before he could finish that last thought.

“Harry,” he said softly, scooting a little closer.

Harry looked straight into his eyes and couldn’t help but smile.

“Next time he makes a move, don’t hold back, just let it happen. I’m not in the least bit worried that you’ll cross a line, but I do have something that’ll perhaps put your mind at ease.”

Harry silently watched Charlie take his necklace off. It was a thin and quite unremarkable leather band with a small silver pendant in the shape of a female Antipodean Opaleye.

Charlie drew his wand, tapped it against the pendant and mumbled a series of complicated-sounding spells. Harry hadn’t heard any of them before, though it didn’t surprise him. Charlie was full of surprises and that was exactly what drew Harry to him, just like the scent of sweet nectar had the power to bewitch any bee alive.

When Charlie finished his complicated incantation, the dragon pendant came to life, grew to the size of a chicken egg, and spewed a vivid red flame. Harry stared mesmerised, lost himself in the dragon’s glittering multi-coloured eyes and gasped when it settled down once more and returned to being a seemingly lifeless pendant.

“Wear this, if you’re worried about going too far, Aasymah will stop you.”

Intrigued, Harry reached out and touched the pendant. He hissed when he felt his own magical signature weave itself into the pendant’s magic and vice versa.

Leaning forward, he lowered his head and held still while Charlie fastened the leather band around his neck and adjusted the strap. When he sat up and the pendant touched his bare skin an intense strike of energy surged through him and he shuddered, felt dazed and had to close his eyes for a moment.

“What is it?” he asked, fascinated.

“Your new protector,” Charlie smiled. “Aasymah’ll stop you from crossing your own boundaries. Her magic and yours weaved together when you touched her. She’ll sense if you’re crossing your own lines and she’ll stop you.”

“What about you? Don’t you need her?” Harry frowned and touched the pendant resting against his bare skin. Strangely enough, it felt both hot and cold.

“I can make another one easily,” Charlie said and Harry wanted to throw his arms around him and hug him, but he resisted that urge. Charlie seemingly sensed what he was thinking of and drew him into a fierce hug.

“Being in love suits you, Harry Potter,” he whispered into Harry’s ear and Harry shuddered and broke into the biggest, goofiest grin ever. He mumbled a quiet _thanks_ but Charlie simply patted his back and pulled back from the hug. He slowly got to his feet and stretched.

“I better get going and check on my little brat,” he grinned. “If scrubbing the bathroom didn’t cure him of his need to mouth off at me, I reckon me not being there will have done the trick.”

Harry chuckled.

“Don’t be too harsh on him.”

“I’ll try not to.”

Charlie winked and with that, he left to head into the house and bid his parents goodbye. Harry shuffled, let his legs drop off the bench and stretched them. He was about to get up when Teddy, now sporting Slytherin-green hair, came running, clambered onto the bench, and curled up in his lap. He threw his arms around Harry’s shoulders, rested his head against Harry’s chest and he instinctively wrapped his arms around the little boy in a protective, fatherly gesture.

He sat in silence and listened to Teddy’s breathing as it slowly evened out, evidence that his godson had finally fallen asleep.

Harry waited a few more minutes to make sure that Teddy was indeed fast asleep, and, hugging his godson tightly to his chest, he got up and made his way back into the house. He found Andromeda in the living room, engrossed in a conversation with Fleur, and briefly informed her that he would put Teddy to bed. She merely nodded and Harry carried Teddy up to Ron’s old room. He carefully put him down onto Ron’s old bed, pulled the summer blanket up and tucked it around him, then sat down on the edge of the bed and ran his fingers through Teddy’s messy hair. Its colour changed from Slytherin-green to black and Harry chuckled. Now the boy looked almost like his son. Bending down, Harry tenderly kissed him on the cheek and slowly got up. He left the room, and closed the door behind him as he made his way downstairs.

Halfway down he passed Ginny’s bedroom and gently knocked against the wooden frame.

Ginny, who sat on her bed, writing in a black diary, paused, and looked up at him. She smiled and beckoned him into the room. Harry obliged and walking into her room, he sat down on her bed. She put the diary and quill down and crawled over to him. She curled up beside him and placed her head into his lap.

“Hello stranger,” she said with a smile.

“Gin,” he said affectionately and toyed with her long hair. He was ever so grateful that she didn’t hold any grudges about their failed romance and apart from Charlie, she was the only one in the Weasley family who knew the true extent of his love for kink. Ron and Hermione had an idea, of course, but he had never divulged all the details, never told them everything. Spilling his deepest, darkest secrets to Ginny hadn’t been difficult at all, especially not after she had been nothing more but accepting about his sexuality.

“Still not sick of being a superstar?” he mocked and she scoffed at him.

“Love it more than you ever will.”

He laughed heartily and, shuffling about, he leant back against the wall. He and Ginny chatted about Quidditch and his upcoming promotion until she was unable to suppress her yawns any longer. Harry took that as his cue to leave and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. He got off the bed, wished her a good night and left. He suddenly felt rather exhausted but still found it in him to exchange a few pleasantries with Arthur, then find Molly to thank her for her wonderful hospitality.

In return, she shoved a large care package into his arms and winked.

“Loads of treacle tart left over.”

Laughing, Harry gave her a big hug and a kiss. She told him not to be a stranger and since Harry was too tired to walk back into the village, he stepped outside the Burrow and apparated straight into the kitchen of Grimmauld Place where he poured himself a large glass of water to help with the hangover he would undoubtedly have to deal with in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Aasymah** means "the one who is a _Protector_ and _Guardian_ " and given what Charlie creates for Harry, I found it to be a rather fitting name.


	13. Director Potter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)
> 
> Would you like another glimpse at what’s currently going on in Draco’s head?

* * *

“—Ladies and Gentleman, respected judges of the Wizengamot, valued members of staff and esteemed members of the press, following my lengthy speech, which I am sure bored several of you half to death. As Minister of Magic I can assure you that this absolutely was my intention—”

Several chuckles rippled through the audience at the Minister’s little joke and even Draco smiled, bemused. Minister Shacklebolt had a way with words.

Draco casually leant back against the wall at the back of the extravagantly decorated Ministry ballroom and took a sip from his champagne.

Once upon a time, he would have mocked Harry over the fact that the Ministry had made every effort to impress for the formal announcement of his promotion. These days, however, Draco found it fitting of the man. In recent months his opinion of Harry had changed quite a bit, although, if he was entirely honest with himself, he still wanted to mock Harry for this grand event, if only to get a bit of a rise out of him.

Draco took another sip from his champagne flute. It tasted nowhere as good as the one Harry had bought for him on his birthday but it wasn’t entirely awful. Still, he thought it didn’t really deserve the title _champagne_. Sparkling wine was a much more fitting title but then again it didn’t sound quite as fancy. Minister Shacklebolt’s voice continued to boom through the large reception hall and Draco focused his attention on the stage.

“Let me take this opportunity to formally announce Harry James Potter, Director Potter, I should say, as the new Head of the Auror Department and Assistant Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement,” Minister Shacklebolt said and stepped back from the podium. He motioned for Harry to make his way up on stage and as he did, Draco’s breath caught in his throat.

Harry had changed out of his Auror uniform, which made him look very handsome indeed, and he was now wearing a formal set of black robes with a black bowtie.

Draco felt a shudder of excitement surge through him.

The last time he had seen Harry dressed this formally, they had both been in fourth year at Hogwarts and had attended the Yule Ball as part of the Triwizard Tournament. The vivid memory of a scrawny fourteen-year-old teenager in formal wizarding robes paled completely in comparison to the man who had stepped up to the podium which stood in the centre of the glass stage. He was looking out into the crowd, patiently waiting for the applause to slowly die out and for people to take their seats again.

Draco swallowed hard and felt his body react the way it always did when he thought about Harry or saw him. Over the past couple of weeks Harry had really done a number on Draco and most of his waking thoughts — _and his dreams_ — revolved around him. Nearly all of them made him hard and most all of them eventually resulted in him having to take care of the problem by himself because Harry still wouldn’t fuck him and Draco was about to lose his mind.

He had never wanted a man the way he wanted Harry and the two times that Harry had gotten him off had been nowhere near enough.

Draco’s libido was out of control and he was convinced that he was most definitely _non-compos mentis_.

There was no way he still had any amount of sanity left inside of him and with shaking hands, Draco downed the remainder of his champagne and beckoned one of the waiters over to exchange his empty glass for a full one.

 _I will not be held accountable for what I’ll do tonight_ , he thought darkly and forced himself to focus on what was happening up on stage.

_Tonight, Potter, will be the night, I’ve waited long enough and I’ll get you, one way or another._

He inwardly straightened up and looked at the man who had stolen his heart, his sanity and everything else in-between, above, and below. Harry, dressed to the nines, in his, undoubtedly, tailormade robes looked extremely handsome.

 _Scratch that_ , Draco thought, Harry he looked good enough to eat and it was with the greatest difficulty that Draco refrained from picturing Harry naked. He was already painfully hard and it was taking him every ounce of self-control not to vacate the room, head for the men’s and wank furiously to the image of Harry Potter dressed in the wizarding version of a Muggle tuxedo.

Harry stood with his back ramrod straight though there wasn’t the tiniest bit of tension in him. Instead, a playful smile ghosted around the corners of his mouth and Draco imagined that his intense green eyes were probably sparkling with excitement.

There was an air of confidence about him that made the butterflies in Draco’s stomach flutter pleasantly in anticipation. He hadn’t seen Harry in nearly five days and was going nearly crazy with desire. Harry’s daily memos and the flirtatious notes he included with the lunches he kept having delivered to Draco’s office at twelve thirty sharp each day, didn’t help Draco’s composure whatsoever.

He wanted Harry so bad, his need to be around him, to touch him, to talk to him was stronger than anything else. He had told Harry so, had written it all down in a note, and when Harry had responded with the cheeky magical drawing of a moving winking devil’s face, Draco had wanted to bang his head on his desk. He was absolutely and unequivocally ready to beg Harry. He was ready to sink to his knees and beg Harry to fuck him and that was something he had never ever done, yet somehow doing it for Harry made it sound like a very good idea indeed.

Draco vaguely registered that Harry had begun talking, but he found that he had serious trouble focusing. The deep, warm voice washed over him like a protective blanket and he found himself gracefully weaving through the crowds and moving further to the front. He stopped several rows from the stage and when Harry’s eyes settled on him, he momentarily forgot how to breathe. He shivered and his entire body felt on fire. When his lungs burned in protest, he forced himself to take a few shallow breaths and his tongue darted out to wet his suddenly too dry lips.

Draco shifted his champagne flute from his left hand to his right and, slipping his left hand into the pocket of his snug-fitting grey trousers, he brushed his fingers along the shaft of his rather prominent erection.

Harry gave him a wicked smile. He almost unnoticeably shook his head and Draco had no idea whether it was that or Harry’s intense gaze that made him pull his hand out of his pocket and let it dangle at his side. Harry smirked at him and then turned his attention back to addressing the audience, leaving Draco seething quietly. He wondered if jumping up on stage, tearing Harry’s clothes off and sucking him off in front of everyone was a good idea but dismissed that thought.

He wanted Harry to fuck him, wanted it so desperately, wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything in his life.

 _Please_ , he thought shamelessly, _please, please, please_.


	14. Incarcerous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)
> 
> I wonder, will I get all the love and coffee now? I mean I’ve been getting loads of love already, incredible amounts even...you people are such beautiful souls, you make my heart soar and my eyes water for all the right reasons.
> 
> Now, enough of the sappy declarations of love. I need _**more coffee**_ — I am so sleep-deprived it’s not even funny anymore.
> 
> Nevertheless, please enjoy — just don’t combust, I’ve grown extremely fond of having all of you around and I’m not good at missing people who mean a lot to me.

* * *

Harry swirled Ginny around the dance floor and she moved with an air of gracefulness and elegance that even he found breath-taking. She was no longer the school girl he had once so heavily crushed upon, but a fine-looking young woman and even though he preferred the male gender he could appreciate her stunning beauty — she had filled out in absolutely all the right places — and was grateful that she had agreed to be his companion for the night.

He had wanted to ask Draco, had even told him that he wanted nothing more than to enter the festive banquet hall with Draco at his side but they had both agreed that it was a little early for them to make their relationship public. Draco had laughed and teased him mercilessly when Harry had told him that he had asked Ginny to be his date and while he had felt tempted to spank the sass out of Draco, he had thoroughly enjoyed the impertinence.

It was refreshing and one of the founding pillars of their relationship.

Harry didn’t want to give it up for the world.

As the music slowed, Harry drew Ginny a little closer and smiled at her. Over her shoulder, he spotted Draco, who was dancing with a dashingly handsome young Auror trainee and an irrational bout of jealousy washed over him. Tobias had his hands low on Draco’s hips and Harry wanted to slap them away or better, permanently curse them off.

His magic flared and it took Ginny squeezing his shoulder for him to rein it in.

She turned her head and followed his gaze, saw exactly what he saw and when she turned back to look at him, she had a devilish smirk on her face.

“Draco Malfoy, huh?” she said and Harry knew that it was useless to even try and deny it.

His magic and the look in his eyes had given him away.

He nodded.

“Takes a special brand of handsome to bewitch you this thoroughly.”

She smiled and Harry squeezed her hip. Ginny yelped, slapped his shoulder, and glared at him.

“Harry James Potter, behave yourself, we are in public.”

Her reprimand was teasing and good-natured and in response, Harry spun her around the dancefloor with renewed vigour.

He kept his eyes firmly on Draco and a few moments later, his boyfriend turned to look at him. Their eyes locked across the semi-crowded dancefloor and Harry’s brow furrowed. Draco flashed him a lopsided grin and in an act of pure defiance, he pulled his dance partner flush against his body. Harry glared hard but Draco merely laughed, purposefully leant closer and whispered something into Tobias’ ear. The young Auror trainee threw his head back and laughed and when, a moment later, Draco pulled him off the dancefloor and they vanished into the crowd, Harry saw red.

“Go on, go after him, spank that pale booty of his,” Ginny laughed and Harry slowed their dance and led her off the dancefloor.

She excused herself and Harry watched her head for the bar. His eyes roamed around the room and he tried to spot Draco’s white-blond hair in the sea of people milling about. It took him a few minutes but eventually, he was successful and made a beeline across the room. He elegantly wound his way through the crowd, politely accepted well-wishes from a few random people, smiled and inclined his head in return.

He finally caught up with Draco at one of the side doors that let out of the banquet room, reached out to clasp his hand around Draco’s wrist, and stopped him in his track. Draco whirled around, wand drawn, but relaxed and holstered it when he saw who had stopped him.

“Leaving so soon, Malfoy?” Harry asked, dropping his voice down to a low husky drawl.

It had the desired effect and Draco shuddered visibly.  
  
“Yes,” he replied steadfastly.

“Pity.”

Harry pretended to look dejected, then stepped closer and forced Draco up against the wall beside the door.

“I did not like that stunt you just pulled on the dancefloor, I did not like it one bit,” he growled and squeezed Draco’s wrist a little firmer. He brought his other hand up and ran it affectionately through Draco’s hair. Draco trembled but he boldly held his gaze in a silent challenge.

“'Tis what you get when you don’t put out, Potter,” Draco drawled and Harry took another step closer, almost pressing his body up against Draco’s.

“Is that so?” he asked, his question quiet with just the right edge of danger to it.

Draco reacted to it almost immediately, his breathing ragged and shallow. His pewter eyes darkened several shades until they were a dark smoky, almost porpoise grey. Harry absolutely wanted to punish Draco for his brazen behaviour, but he knew that he could not.

Not really, anyway, and not in the way he wanted to.

Clearly not daring to speak, Draco merely nodded and Harry trailed a single finger down the side of his neck, past his collarbone and down the centre of his chest. He stopped just below where he knew Draco’s navel was and Draco’s breathing hitched.

He licked his lips.

“Harry,” he breathed and Harry smiled.  
  
“Yes, Draco?”

“I need some fresh air.”

Harry nodded.

“Yes, I think you do. I think we both do.”

He took a step away from Draco, let go of his wrist and instead went to open the side door. He held it open hissed when Draco’s hand quite purposefully brushed against his crotch. He had a fair idea of what Draco was playing at and he was most definitely game. He also knew that fresh air was not the only thing that was on Draco’s mind. It was quite possibly the very last thing that was on his mind. Still, he followed Draco out of the banquet hall and they walked down the corridor in silence.

Draco headed for the lifts and when an empty one arrived, they both stepped inside and Harry watched him as he pressed the button for the Atrium.

The journey was short and for a moment, Harry felt the almost irresistible temptation to grab Draco, spin him around and apparate them both straight into his bedroom at Grimmauld Place. He would have preferred to apparate them straight into his playroom, tie Draco up good and proper and tease his insolence right out of him, or until he begged for mercy, but he wasn’t reckless enough to do that to Draco without having discussed limits, put a valid D/s agreement in place and knowing his safeword.

Instead, he abandoned those thoughts and when they both reached the fireplaces that allowed for both floo’ing and apparition, Harry slipped his hand into Draco’s and squeezed gently.

Draco turned to smile at him and Harry allowed him to pull him close. A moment later, he felt the familiar tug of side-along apparition and they both disappeared into thin air only to reappear close to Notting Hill Gate Underground Station. Harry let Draco pull him down Campden Hill Road and they walked in comfortable silence but with the anticipation building steadily between them.

Harry knew exactly what Draco wanted, he didn’t need him to say the words. Draco had been an open book about it for a good while now and for the first time Harry thought he may just give in.

Soon enough they turned off Campden Hill Road and onto a smaller street. A few minutes later Draco slowed and they stopped in front of his building. Draco turned to face him and Harry could clearly sense his nervousness. He found it endearing and, deciding to ease Draco’s nerves just a little, he pulled him closer, sneaked his free arm around Draco’s waist and splayed his fingers out across his lower back.

Draco melted into his embrace and Harry let go of his hand, cupped Draco’s cheek and smiled, then drew him in for a gentle, promising kiss. Draco moaned and Harry pulled him that little bit closer, hugged him tightly and ran his fingers through Draco’s hair. Draco practically mewled and it was with the greatest difficulty that Harry pulled away from the kiss.

“Are you going to invite me in?” he whispered against Draco’s wet, somewhat swollen lips.

Draco nodded a breathless _yes_ but made no move to extract himself from Harry.

“Lead the way,” Harry encouraged gently and that seemed to push Draco into action.

He withdrew from the embrace and Harry let him slip away.

Walking up to the front door of the building, Draco drew his wand and cast an unlocking spell. Harry saw his shaking hand but chose not to comment on it.

Instead, he followed Draco into the house and up the stairs. They walked up to the second floor and Draco unlocked the door to his two-storey flat. Harry silently noted that he had opted for magical locking charms rather than his usual Muggle keys.

When they both entered, the Golden Retriever Draco was currently taking care of for his Muggle friend, greeted them with great enthusiasm. Draco patted her head, then sent the dog back to her blanket and while she looked a bit put out, she obeyed and trotted off. Harry closed the door behind them and slipped out of his shoes. He watched Draco do the same, then noted that Draco still hadn’t holstered his wand. He smirked but said nothing.

Draco wordlessly reached for his hand, pulled him up the stairs and into his bedroom.

Once inside, Draco kicked the door shut and Harry sensed the wordless locking charm, Draco cast at the lock. He still said nothing. He was rather intrigued as to what Draco was up to. He knew exactly what Draco wanted and he very much wanted to let Draco have it but he was curious to find out how Draco intended to go about getting exactly what he wanted. It was obvious that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer tonight and that suited Harry just fine.

Draco turned to face him.

“You’re not leaving here tonight, Potter,” he whispered, sounding most determined, and Harry chuckled.

“I’m not?” he asked.

“No.”

Draco shook his head and raised his wand. He pointed it at Harry and swished and mumbled an incantation Harry knew all too well.

“ _Incarcerous!_ ”

Harry suppressed an amused chuckle as he found himself levitated onto Draco’s bed with his left and right hands bound to the fancy iron-wrought headboard. The bonds were tight and Harry flexed his fingers a little and pulled at his restraints.

He couldn’t quite remember the last time anyone had tied him up — _well, he could but those memories had no place here and now_ — but he was sure that it wouldn’t take much of an effort to get out of those ropes.

For now, Harry had no intention of fighting Draco’s magic and strange as it was, sitting, tied to Draco’s bed didn’t feel in the least bit uncomfortable. He was pleasantly intrigued by Draco’s efforts.

 _Kudos_ , he thought, _you are good, little prince, I like it._

He watched Draco carefully place his wand on the dresser near him and then snap his fingers. Light, but sexy music filled the room and Harry smiled.

 _You planned this, my devious one_.

He had a fairly good idea of what was about to come and Draco did not disappoint.

He gently swayed his hips from side to side as he slowly loosened his tie and pulled it over his head before carelessly discarding it on a nearby chair. His hands trailed down his front, over his hips and down to his mid-thighs. He swayed his hips a little more prominently and kept his eyes locked on Harry’s as he licked his lips and started to slowly unbutton his shirt. His fingertips brushed against his, undoubtedly, heated skin and Harry instantly thought of a wandless spell he could cast to increase the sensations but he refrained. This was Draco’s show and he wasn’t about to ruin his moment. He had clearly planned this and Harry appreciated the effort.

With his shirt completely unbuttoned, Draco unfastened his cufflinks, placed them beside his wand on the dresser and, turning his back on Harry, he slowly shrugged the shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall down his arms and slip to the floor. Harry swallowed and licked his lips, the pale skin on Draco’s back looked delectable and he wanted to kiss every inch of it, wanted to bite and nip it until Draco moaned continuously underneath him and begged for more.

“So sexy, so beautiful,” Harry whispered.

Draco turned his head to look at him over his shoulder. The smile that curled his lips upward melted something fierce inside Harry and he wanted to tell Draco to turn around but he swallowed those words.

Draco, seemingly having read his thoughts, turned around, slowly, and gracefully, and his hips swayed in the shape of an infinity symbol. He took a step closer to the bed, dropped his hands to the waistband of his trousers and toyed with the top button.

Harry drank in the sight of his bare chest, smooth and pale. He wanted to kiss every inch of Draco’s chest, wanted to flick his tongue repeatedly over Draco’s nipples until they hardened underneath his teasing touch. He wanted to gently bite the pert nubs until he had Draco moaning and writhing beneath him. He wanted to swirl his tongue around Draco’s bellybutton and kiss every inch of his stomach until it quivered beneath his touch. He wanted to tie Draco’s wrists to the headboard, wanted to spread his legs and tie his ankles to the feet of the bed. He wanted to kiss every inch of Draco’s body—

Harry’s breath hitched when Draco popped the top button of his trousers, teasingly toyed with the zipper, then slowly dragged it down and slipped his hands inside.

They slid down his legs and even though Harry couldn’t see them, he knew that they lay crumbled and pooled at Draco’s feet. Draco stilled his hips, gracefully stepped out of his trousers, expertly toed his socks off and Harry looked at him, then slowly let his gaze trail down Draco’s chest. He briefly settled on the scar that ran across Draco’s abdomen but Draco soon distracted him when he hooked his thumbs into his light-grey boxer briefs and slowly pulled them off his hips. His very prominent erection sprang free and bobbed excitedly, delighted to finally be free of its constraints.

Sucking in a sharp breath, Harry felt his own hard cock twitch in response and he shuffled on the bed, suddenly finding his trousers way too tight. Draco stepped out of his boxers, discarded them onto the floor and, leaning forward, he braced himself on the bed. He lowered his knees to the edge of the bed and Harry let out a low moan.

The sight of Draco on all fours, slowly crawling towards him, slowly straddling him, awoke the beast in him and he struggled against the ropes that held him tied to the bed.

Draco straddled his thighs, squeezed his shoulders, and suggestively moulded himself against Harry. He expertly undid Harry’s bowtie and tossed it to the floor, then unbuttoned several buttons of Harry’s dress shirt.

“Still want to leave?” he breathed hotly against Harry’s ear and Harry growled in response.

He channelled his magic, directed it towards his wrists, clenched his hands into fits and broke free of his restraints. With almost no effort, he wrapped his arms around Draco, flipped him onto his back and banished his outer robe to the floor. He pressed Draco into the mattress and pinned his hands above his head.

“No,” he said firmly and delighted in the moan that fell from Draco’s lips as he writhed beneath him, half-heartedly struggling against the sudden change of power dynamics between them.

Harry lowered his head, pressed his lips against Draco’s and pushed his tongue inside his mouth. He thrust his hips down and rolled them against Draco’s hard cock and swallowed the low, lengthy moan his ministrations drew from the depths of Draco’s throat. He pulled away from the kiss and stared down at Draco, who looked up at him with lust-laden eyes, full of desire, want and need and just a little bit of desperation.

“What do you want, Draco?” he asked firmly yet softly, his gaze never once wavering.

“You know what I want,” Draco replied.

“Do I? Do I really know what you want?”

“Ye—yes,” Draco said but this time his voice quivered and he sucked in a sharp breath.

Harry rolled his hips again and Draco whimpered.

“Tell me anyway, tell me what you want.”

“I—I wa—want you to fu—fuck me.”

Draco stumbled over his words and Harry found it endearing. He pressed a firm yet tender kiss against Draco’s lips.

“How do you want me to fuck you?”

Sitting up a little, he straddled Draco’s thighs and finished unbuttoning his dress shirt, then pulled it off his shoulders and tossed it onto the floor beside the bed.

He leaned forward, splayed his fingers over Draco’s chest and slowly ran his hands upward to Draco’s shoulders and from there along his upper arms, down his forearms until his fingers intertwined with Draco’s. He squeezed and Draco’s fingers tightened, firmly holding his hands in place. Harry leant down, trailed warm kisses along his chest, past his collarbone and along the side of his neck.

“What do you want, Draco?” Harry asked again and nipped at Draco’s earlobe, sucking it into his mouth and flicking his tongue repeatedly over it.

Draco mewled, whimpered, and moved beneath him, not necessarily struggling but just desperate for more.

“Do you want it like this? Do you want me to look at you while I push inside you and slowly fuck you into oblivion? Or do you want to get on your knees for me, while I grip your hips and thrust into you, stroking your prostate each time I claim you as mine? Do you want to stand, legs around my waist while I fuck you into the wall?”

“ _Ngh_ , Ha—Harry,” Draco panted hard and clenched his fingers so tightly that Harry didn’t need to look at them to know that his knuckles had gone white.

“Tell me and I’ll make it so good for you, I promise.”

Harry kissed his jawline, peppered tiny kisses along his lips and lifted his head to look at Draco, who looked so utterly divine, pinned to the mattress, his hands raised slightly above his head, gently restrained by Harry’s hands. Draco’s eyes were nearly black with lust. He had parted his lush red lips and they were slightly swollen from all the kissing they had been doing. His breathing was uneven and shallow and his face beautifully flushed.

Unable to resist, Harry captured his lips in a fierce kiss and determined to make Draco’s head spin, he kissed him with everything he had and then some.

His kiss had Draco writhing and moaning underneath him, almost trashing even.

He slowly slid off Draco’s thighs, gently broke the kiss, moved to lie beside him, propped his head up on his hand and smiled at Draco, who stared at him, breathless, utterly mesmerised and like he was the only person that presently existed in the entire universe.

“Want to look at you,” Draco whispered and his hand moved to run down Harry’s chest and Harry let him, let him play with the curls of his chest hair, let him press the palm of his hand against his heart and let him move his hand down to the waistband of his trousers. He let Draco undo his belt, let him unbutton his trousers and let him pull the zipper down. He let him slip his hand inside, wrap it around his erection and groaned when Draco squeezed, then rubbed his palm along the shaft.

He captured Draco’s lips in yet another searing kiss and when he pulled away, he asked where he kept his lube.

Draco feebly motioned towards his nightstand and Harry pulled the top drawer open and located the bottle of lube. He clasped his fingers around it, moaned when Draco slipped his hand into his boxers and wrapped his long nimble fingers around his throbbing erection and stroked it with a sense of purpose.

Harry cast a wandless warming charm to pre-heat the bottle and silently noted that Draco used the same special brand of magical lube he himself preferred. It was shockingly expensive but worth every gallon. Looking down at Draco, he smiled.

“Careful with that now, I kind of need that…unless you prefer a dildo?” he warned jokingly, teasing Draco a little. Draco smirked but dutifully withdrew his hand.

Placing the lube on the bed, Harry shuffled around, climbed across Draco and over the bed to take off the remainder of his clothing. He noticed Draco’s eyes dropping to his groin and heard the sharp intake of breath as his eyes settled upon Harry’s cock for the first time ever.

Harry allowed him to take a good long look, then gently ordered him to shuffle to the centre of the bed. Draco obliged and, spreading his legs, he made room for Harry to kneel between his legs.

Harry leant forward, placed both arms on either side of Draco’s head and leant down. He captured Draco’s lips in a teasing kiss, then trailed kisses down the front of his neck and teased Draco’s Adam’s apple. It bobbed as Draco swallowed hard andHarry smiled.

“Arms above your head,” he whispered and Draco obeyed without hesitation.

Sweet praise almost slipped from Harry’s lips but he bit his tongue and swallowed that remark.

Instead, he leant forward, dropped a kiss into the open palm of Draco’s left hand and trailed soft, wet kisses across his wrist, all up his forearm, paying no heed to the remnants of the Dark Mark, along the inside of his elbow and up the inside of his upper arm. He kissed his way down towards Draco’s pert nipple, sucked the dark nub into his mouth and swirled his tongue around it, then gently bit down.

Draco writhed underneath him, groaned, and panted hard. Harry took that as his cue to move on to Draco’s other nipple and subjected it to almost the same treatment.

This time he, however, bit a little harder.

Draco screamed and bucked his hips almost violently.

Harry pressed his own hips down and effectively restrained Draco’s hips, then gently trailed a ton of kisses all over Draco’s right shoulder, his upper arm, the inside of his elbow, down his forearm, across his wrist and finally dropped a single kiss into the open palm of Draco’s right hand.

“Fuck, Potter, I swear if you’re just teasing, I’ll strangle you with my bare hands,” Draco swore under his breath.

Harry chuckled.

 _I’d like to see you try_ , he thought then kissed Draco hard and plunged his tongue into Draco’s mouth, sought out his tongue and stroked it with practised determination.

 _Merlin, you taste sweeter than the finest wine,_ he mused.

It would take one tiny spell for him to have Draco bound so tight he would only be able to think about moving. The thought excited Harry way too much and he pulled away, covered Draco’s chest in kisses and licked, sucked, nibbled, and kissed his way down to Draco’s throbbing erection. He trailed a single finger along the long shaft, repeatedly circled around the head, scooped up some of the precome and tasted it.

“You taste divine,” he whispered as he popped his finger from his mouth and watched Draco swallow hard.

He flexed his fingers but didn’t move them from where Harry had asked him to put them.

“I think I’ll suck you off first,” Harry mumbled and not waiting to hear Draco’s thoughts on the matter he lowered his head, covered his teeth, and sucked Draco’s cock deep into his mouth. He wisely restrained Draco’s hips and Draco groaned, loudly and without the least bit of shame.

“Harry, _fuck_ —” Draco panted and Harry held his gaze as he sucked Draco’s cock.

His tongue twirled around the head and then he took him deep, coated it with plenty of his own saliva and closed the fingers of his hand around the base. He stroked in time with his bobbing head and blindly reached out for that bottle of lube, gently nudging Draco’s legs further apart.

Draco obliged and Harry stroked the palm of his hand up and down the inside of Draco’s thigh. He lightly scratched his fingernails over the sensitive skin, trailed his fingertips over Draco’s balls and along the perineum, then gently rubbed over the rimmed muscle, feeling it quiver and contract beneath his teasing touch.

He opened the bottle of lube, tipped some of it into his hand and coated his fingers with it, then gave Draco’s cock a hard suck that forced a lengthy, almost guttural groan to fall from his lips.

His index finger found Draco’s hole and Harry circled his lube-coated finger around it but did not attempt to breach the tight muscle. He just sucked and teased, teased and sucked, sucked and teased and felt Draco’s entire body tremble beneath him.

His legs were shaking and Harry did not need to look to know that Draco was curling his toes. He was mildly surprised that Draco hadn’t attempted to curl his fingers into his hair and for a moment he felt tempted to pull away and deny Draco his orgasm but decided against it.

Instead, he pushed gently at Draco’s hole, still not enough to breach but enough to let him know about his intentions.

Draco tensed further, his cock leaked precome into his mouth and Harry cupped Draco’s balls with his remaining free hand. He squeezed gently, rolled them in his palm and rubbed over them.

Draco mewled, moaned, whimpered and Harry thought that he was trying to say something but it was all a bit of a garbled mess.

Harry paid no heed to it.

He cast wandless, wordless cleaning and protective charms, then pushed his fingers past the tight ring of muscle, pushed right in up until his first knuckle and gently thrust in and out of Draco.

That was the final straw for Draco who came with a long guttural groan of what Harry thought was his name, the rest he couldn’t make out.

Draco filled his mouth and Harry swallowed it, suckled every drop out of him and when Draco keened lowly, he slowly allowed his cock to slip from his mouth and withdrew his finger from inside Draco.

Harry sat back on his haunches, looked at the pretty mess he had made and smiled wickedly when he noted that Draco still hadn’t moved his arms.

 _Such a good little prince you are_ , Harry thought and wondered what would happen if he said the words aloud. He didn’t give in to his desire to praise Draco and braced himself on one arm as he leant forward and simply looked at Draco, who’s eyes fluttered opened.

He looked at him with such intensity that Harry’s heart skipped a beat and he wondered whether now was a good time to tell Draco that he loved him.

He decided against it, captured Draco’s lips in a slow kiss and this time Draco’s hands moved as he trailed them up his arms, over his shoulders and as Harry shuffled to lie on top of Draco, he let his hands slide down his back and to his arse.

He allowed Draco to explore and rocked his hips gently. Draco shuddered and sighed into their kiss.

Harry gently drew away, smiled down at Draco, and brushed his damp hair away from his forehead.

“Can you take a little more pleasure or have you had enough fun for one night?” he asked and Draco nodded.

“Yes, yes, I can take more,” he whispered and, slowly pulling back, Harry once again sat back on his haunches and reached for the lube. He squirted a generous amount onto his hand, coated his fingers with it and circled a single finger around Draco’s hole. He teased until Draco squirmed and asked for more. Only then did he breach the still tight muscle, pushed his finger inside, pushed in until the second knuckle, then pulled back and thrust his finger back inside. Draco clenched a little around his finger but loosened soon enough. Harry kept his eyes locked onto Draco’s and pushed his finger all the way inside, thrust a few times, then angled his finger and brushed against Draco’s prostate.

“ _Ngh_ ,” Draco shuddered and his body trembled.

Harry did it again— and again— and again— and again.

Only when he had reduced Draco to a moaning, whimpering, quivering wreck did he stop. He pulled his finger out, added a second one and slowly pushed inside. The tight muscle fought back with mild resistance, but Harry thought that Draco was a little too high on pleasure to really care about or feel the burn. He still took his sweet time, eased two of his fingers inside and once again angled for Draco’s prostate. Draco’s moans, gasps, and the way his body writhed was music to his ears and when Draco’s eyes slowly fell closed, Harry stilled his fingers and reminded him to look at him.

It took Draco a moment to respond but he eventually forced his eyes open.

Smiling at him, Harry continued to tease him, all the while thinking how good and obedient Draco was and how much he liked it. He teased Draco’s prostate a while longer and when he started writhing beneath him, he pulled back and stopped teasing.

Draco moaned at the sudden loss of pleasure and Harry rubbed his lower abdomen to distract and give him something else to focus on.

After a while, Harry continued to move his fingers and continued to tease Draco. He took much more time than he usually would but this was not a scene and Draco wasn’t his sub. They were just two people making love and Harry desperately wanted Draco to feel good.

He had promised him that much and he intended to keep his promise.

“Wa—want m—more, H—Harry,” Draco whined and thrashed underneath him.

Harry smiled.

“You sure?”

“Y—yes, pl—lease Harry, n—need your cock, please, so bad.”

 _Such a good boy, you even know how to beg for it, oh you’re sinfully beautiful_ , Harry thought and withdrew his fingers.

He coated Draco’s now loose hole and his cock with plenty of lube, helped Draco to bend his legs at the knees and then guided his cock to Draco’s hole. He gently pushed and Draco gasped and shuddered. His half-erect cock faltered a little but Harry gently stroked the inside of Draco’s thigh, teased with his fingernails, and pushed deeper into Draco.

“ _Fuck_!” Draco groaned and Harry dug his nails a little firmer into Draco’s thighs, attempting to distract him. Draco kept his eyes locked on his and reminding him to breathe, Harry continued to edge deeper into Draco. He was slow but deliberate and a few moments later, he was fully sheathed with his balls resting snuggly against Draco’s arse cheeks. He sought out Draco’s hand, allowed their fingers to intertwine, but let the other trail to Draco’s hip, which he gripped hard.

He pulled back, then pushed inside and Draco made the most delightful sound of pure unadulterated pleasure. Harry leant forward, told him how fucking beautiful he looked, then captured his lips in a searing kiss. He gradually increased the speed of his thrusts until he had built a steady rhythm.

Adjusting his angle, he aimed for Draco’s prostate and scored. Draco’s entire body convulsed beneath him and Draco screamed in delight, mumbling a ton of incoherent nonsense.

“Want to touch you.”

He sounded almost like he was begging and the look in his eyes told Harry that he was.

“Touch,” Harry whispered, granting permission, and Draco’s hands all but flew to his shoulders, holding on, gripping tightly. Harry didn’t even mind in the slightest. He thrust harder, faster, rougher, felt Draco’s cock swell between them and set an unforgiving pace. Draco attempted to lock his legs around his waist but he didn’t have the energy left to sustain his hold and they dropped back onto the bed though he kept them bend at the knees. Harry thrust harder still.

“So gorgeous, so fucking gorgeous,” he whispered against Draco’s lips, too out of breath to kiss him, too high to focus on anything but slamming into Draco and hitting his prostate, providing him with maximum pleasure.

He watched Draco, watched how he desperately tried to keep his eyes open, tried to keep looking up at him but eventually lost the battle. His arms fell back onto the bed and he gripped the corners of one of the pillows and squeezed, held on for dear life.

His mouth hung open and every so often his tongue darted out to wet his lips. He was panting hard and large pearls of sweat rolled from his forehead down his temples and soaked into his hair.

Draco’s chest was rising and falling rapidly and his entire body trembled and shook from the impact of Harry’s thrusts.

He half-moaned, half-sobbed and Harry wondered whether Draco was still able to string a coherent sentence together.

He highly doubted it.

Unbelievably turned on by the sight of Draco’s debauched body beneath him, Harry increased the ferocity and intensity of his thrusts, slammed into Draco as if to claim him, and felt his own orgasm building.

It started somewhere deep in the pit of his stomach, spread with the uncontrollable fury of Fiendfyre and as his body supplied him with an overdose of adrenaline, endorphins and other delightful hormones, his magic whipped about him and, with one last thrust, one last brush of Draco’s prostate, he came on a low but long guttural groan.

As he filled Draco with streak after streak of thick white-hot come, he managed to find it in him to close his fist around Draco’s cock. He pumped once, twice and on the third stroke, Draco exploded over his hand, coating it and his stomach with a heavy load of his come.

Harry stilled, braced himself on both hands and slowly pulled out of Draco. He sighed, tiredly moved to flop down onto the bed beside Draco and wiped his hand on the bedsheet.

When Draco rolled onto his side and curled up against him, Harry had enough sense left in him to pull him into his arms and hold him tight.

Harry pressed a breathless kiss against Draco’s temple, rubbed his back tenderly and three sweet words fell from his lips in a loving chant, _I love you, I love you, I love you._

He wasn’t sure whether Draco had heard him and stiffened a little when Draco sobbed into his chest and moaned against his hot and sweaty skin.

“Fuck Harry,” he mumbled, clearly half incoherent. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“That good, eh?” Harry teased, hugged Draco tighter and flung one leg over Draco’s thigh to envelop him almost completely. He cast a mild warming charm over him, rubbed his back soothingly and, unable to resist, he quietly reassured Draco, and repeatedly told him that he was safe and loved.

“Little prince,” Harry whispered and Draco mumbled something completely incoherent into his chest.

Eventually, Draco’s breathing slowed down and he sighed, mumbled something that very much sounded like _I love you too,_ then drifted off to sleep.

Harry lay awake a little while longer, his instinct to protect Draco forcing him to make sure that Draco was just asleep and hadn’t, in fact, lost consciousness.

He checked Draco’s pulse and was able to feel Draco’s steady breathing against his chest. He cancelled the warming charm and spelt a summer blanket over them both.

A minute later, he, too, drifted off into the land of dreams.


	15. The Morning After The Night Before

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)

* * *

Harry woke up to the sound of a running shower and Draco’s off-key singing. Stretching luxuriously, he lifted his arm above his head and glanced at his watch. It was just gone eight in the morning and bending his legs at the knees, he pressed his heels into the mattress. It was just the right kind of firm softness and was so perfectly comfortable that Harry didn’t really want to get up any time soon.

He made a mental note to ask Draco where he had purchased his mattress, for it was so much more comfortable than his own, then strained his ears, listened closely and after a few moments he managed to identify the song Draco was presently murdering. It was an upbeat nineties tune by the Weird Sisters and Harry chuckled.

He imagined telling Draco exactly how bad his singing was, and imagined Draco throwing a raging temper tantrum. He was sure that in this scenario Draco would try to hit him with a series of stinging hexes and perhaps a few other jinxes. Harry pictured himself dodging all of Draco’s attempts to curse him and indulged in the kinky fantasy of snapping his fingers and producing a long, silvery rope to bind Draco with.

He had quite the penchant for the art of Japanese bondage, or Shibari, and couldn’t help but think that Draco would look divine, bound in beautiful dark grey silk ropes — _a stark contrast to his exquisite pale skin_. Harry allowed himself to imagine the ropes slithering around Draco’s wrists, imagined it binding his hands tightly and repeatedly around his torso, creating an intricate pattern of complex knots.

Then, with Draco beautifully bound, he wanted to walk him backwards, wanted to force him against his bedroom wall and keep him there with no opportunity to escape. He couldn’t help but wonder whether Draco would promise him torture or submit willingly but could think of a few ways in which he could gently persuade Draco to surrender to him.

Stretching his legs and arching his back a little, Harry rolled onto his side and stared at the en-suite bathroom door. He realised that Draco had left it ajar and smirked.

 _A silent invitation, perhaps?_ Harry mused but was still not quite ready to get out of bed. He let his thoughts drift and settle on last night’s lovemaking and shuddered at the mere memory. It made his blood rush south and pool in his groin. It had been very vanilla with a faint dusting of kink but it had been perfect, utterly perfect.

 _For the love of Godric Gryffindor_ , he thought as he remembered Draco stripping for him.

He remembered Draco crawling onto the bed, looking so sinfully erotic that the memory of it alone made Harry crave a repeat performance. He remembered how he had taken control back and how willingly Draco had surrendered to him; how much he had enjoyed Harry treating him like the little prince he was. He could still, and very vividly so, picture how utterly divine Draco had looked with his arms raised above his head and how much of a turn on it had been to feel him writhe beneath him. The moans and the way he had screamed, lost in the throes of his orgasm, echoed in his mind and Harry shivered a little.

He was surprised at how much of an impact making love to Draco had made on him and now that he’d had a taste of it, Harry wanted more, so much more. Draco was his drug; his ecstasy and he was hopelessly addicted.

With a little sigh, he recalled the way Draco had melted against him in the aftermath of their passionate love-making and how he had fallen asleep with his face buried in Harry’s chest but not without telling him that he loved him too.

Harry felt a wave of pleasant dizziness wash over him — _it was more like a rush of serotonin, really, since it made him grin like an idiot_ — and wondered if Draco remembered what he had told him before he had drifted off to sleep.

Too curious to remain in bed, Harry sat up and pushed the blanket away. Finally getting up, he patted towards the bathroom, hesitated for a moment, then resolutely pushed the door open and stepped into the steam-filled room.

Draco was still murdering that Weird Sisters tune and Harry couldn’t help but grin.

There was something strangely sexy about Draco singing and he wondered whether he was developing a new kink.

 _Possibly_ , he thought, then decided that Draco Malfoy was his kink. The singing was just a bonus.

His eyes sought out the lithe form and he took a moment to fully appreciate Draco’s naked body, his long legs, his muscular thighs, his perfect buttocks, and his pale skin.

When looking was no longer enough, Harry resolutely stepped further into the room, pulled the glass door to the spacious shower cubicle open and entered. Just before Draco could turn around, he hugged him from behind, wrapped his arms tightly around his waist and pulled him flush against his body. As the heavenly warm water cascaded down over him, he let his hands trail up and down Draco’s stomach and relished in the way those exquisite abdominal muscles flexed beneath his touch.

His hands travelled up to Draco’s chest and he circled his thumbs over the tender nipples, then pressed a kiss against the side of Draco’s neck. He sucked at the skin and bit gently, purposefully leaving a red mark. He liked the idea of marking Draco because in Harry’s mind that was what Draco was, his.

Draco relaxed into his embrace, tilted his head back and with his eyes closed, he let out a soft whimper that made Harry’s cock stir. He thrust against Draco’s arse and drew another low moan from him. The water served as a near-perfect substitute for the lube he didn’t have at hand. His cock slipped in-between Draco’s buttocks and he rutted against him. The delicious friction made him fully hard and, trailing his hands all over Draco’s body, he placed a series of tiny kisses all along his Draco’s neck.

“Good Morning. You are a heavenly creature; do you know that?” he whispered and Draco murmured something quite incomprehensible in return.

Harry’s hand found his rather prominent erection and he wrapped his hand around it, leisurely stroking up and down. Draco whimpered and tried to thrust into his hand but Harry held him tight, kept him pressed up against his own body and made it rather impossible for Draco to move.

“It would seem two orgasms last night weren’t enough for you,” Harry teased and Draco moaned softly.

“Want one more?”

Draco rather awkwardly twisted his head, opened his eyes, and looked at him.

“Please,” he sighed, his eyes dark with arousal and lust.

Harry thrust a little firmer.

His cock slid effortlessly between Draco’s buttocks and the feeling was most definitely quite pleasurable.

“Harry,” Draco breathed and with a low chuckle, Harry captured Draco’s lips in a slow, sexy kiss.

He drew several low moans from Draco and greedily swallowed them all, then broke away from the kiss and pressed his lips against Draco’s cheek.

“Since you asked so nicely,” Harry murmured.

HE stroked Draco’s cock with a little more determination and built up a slow and steady rhythm.

As Draco’s breathing became more laboured and his moans increasingly frequent, Harry sped up his strokes and intensified his grip. He assaulted Draco’s neck with several kisses, bites and licks and alternated between firm steady strokes and circling his thumb around the head of Draco’s cock.

Draco whimpered and made a delightful sound Harry didn’t know how to describe. He focused on letting his hand fly up and down Draco’s shaft and added determination to the firmness of his strokes.

Sooner rather than later, Draco’s hips bucked, his knees buckled, and he groaned. He spurted his come all over Harry’s hand, though the water almost immediately washed away any trace of the thick white fluid and it disappeared down the drain.

Loosening his hold on Draco, Harry allowed him to turn in his arms and delighted in the fact that the warm water wasn’t the sole perpetrator to blame for Draco’s beautifully flushed cheeks.

“ _Salazar_ , Harry, three orgasms in less than twelve hours, are you _trying_ to kill me?”

Draco grinned goofily.

“Nah, not trying to kill you, just trying to make you _mine_ ,” Harry smirked.

In response, Draco kissed him.

Harry reciprocated and they leisurely snogged for a while until Draco reluctantly broke away. He smiled, licked his lips and then, much to Harry’s astonishment did something Harry hadn’t at all expected.

Draco gracefully sank to his knees right in front of him and Harry’s breath caught in his throat.

His heart hammered in his chest as he looked down at Draco and Draco looked up at him, eyes wide, lips slightly parted.

“Gosh, you’re so fucking beautiful,” Harry whispered.

Cupping Draco’s cheek, he teased his thumb over Draco’s lips.

“You’re a sin, Draco Malfoy, a ravishing sin.”

Draco’s eyes darkened.

Harry had no doubt that his words were turning Draco on and smiling, he filed that information away for future reference. He was about to say some more, but Draco shut him up by leaning forward, parting his lips, and sucking on his hard cock.

Harry groaned and as Draco’s warm wet mouth engulfed his hardness he almost involuntarily bucked his hips. Draco sucked hard and with determination and skill. Harry’s hands flew to Draco’s hair and he twisted his fingers in the wet, blond locks. He threw his head back and thought, _yes that’s it, my love, suck me_.

He moaned, marvelled at just how skilled Draco was with his tongue and his mouth and how his teeth never once graced his sensitive cock. He forced himself to look down at Draco, found him staring up at him and felt his lips curl into a smile.

“Fuck, yes, Draco, you’re so good!” he encouraged.

He was decidedly drunk on the sight of Draco on his knees.

Draco smiled around his cock and doubled his efforts.

Harry had no words to describe how utterly perfect Draco looked right this moment, kneeling in front of him out of his own volition, giving him the most perfect blow job. Draco splayed his hands against his thighs and his fingernails dug a little into his skin but Harry couldn’t care less, in fact, he thoroughly enjoyed it. This felt so right, so good, so perfect and the fact that he hadn’t even asked Draco for a blow job but that Draco himself had decided to give him one made it even sweeter.

Unable to resist prolonging his release, Harry closed his eyes and allowed his orgasm to surge through him. After a few more skilled sucks and a feeble warning, Harry bucked his hips and came hard, filling Draco’s mouth with his come. He felt Draco swallow around his cock, forced his eyes open and watched Draco slowly pull away and licked his swollen red wet lips.

He gingerly rose to his feet and Harry instinctively helped him up, pulled him into his arms and kissed him fiercely.

“I am never letting you go again,” he whispered against Draco’s lips.

Draco hummed in approval at hearing that promise.

They shared another lazy kiss, then Harry inspected the various bottles on the shelf inside Draco’s shower and reached for the body wash. He squirted a copious amount of the clear lemon-scented liquid onto his hand and pulled Draco away from the stream of water. He lathered him in a thick layer of soap and Draco merely stood there and enjoyed it all.

Harry rinsed off the body wash, washed Draco’s hair and conditioned it too and was rather amused when Draco returned the favour and even handed him a spare toothbrush and some toothpaste.

While Draco stepped out of the shower, Harry brushed his teeth, turned the water off and then stepped out of the shower himself. Draco wordlessly handed him a towel and, drying first his messy hair and then the rest of his body, Harry was about to ask whether he could borrow a pair of boxer briefs when Draco offered him a pair and a fluffy white bathrobe.

He accepted everything gratefully, along with a kiss, and just when Draco was about to leave the bathroom, Harry caught his wrist and pulled him back.

“Do you remember what you told me last night?” he asked quietly, too curious not to ask.

He carefully brushed a stray strand of Draco’s damp hair away and tugged it behind his ear.

“Hm, I do,” Draco nodded but said nothing further.

Harry quirked a questioning eyebrow at Draco.

In response, Draco smiled, placed a cheeky kiss on the tip of Harry’s nose and left him alone on the bathroom. Harry stood, gobsmacked for several moments, then managed to gather himself and shook his head. He sighed and wondered whether he might get away with spanking Draco for his teasing.

“Cheeky sod,” he muttered to himself.

He pulled his borrowed boxer briefs on and wrapped the fluffy bathrobe around himself, then tied it at the front and left the bathroom to survey the mess of clothes on the bedroom floor. With a wave of his hand and a wandless, wordless spell he tidied up a little bit. The clean clothes neatly folded themselves into a pile on the chair by the dresser while the dirty clothes flew into the washing basket in the corner. Nodding to himself, Harry made his way downstairs to find Draco, who was goofing around with his temporary furry companion.

“No coffee?” Harry asked.

Draco paused his horseplay and turned his head to look at him.

“I thought we could go out for breakfast? I’ve got to take Kona out for a walk,” he said and Harry grinned.

“In this attire?”

Draco rolled his eyes.  
  
“I’ve got a pair of old jeans that might fit you.”

Harry felt tempted to ask him why he possessed a pair of jeans but decided against it.

“I’m sure one of my t-shirts will fit you, too.”

Harry walked into the open-plan kitchen and helped himself to a cool glass of water. Casually leaning against the kitchen counter, he took several sips then smiled at Draco.

“Deal, though I reserve the right to ravish you again when we come back,” he said, inwardly pleased when Draco’s cheeks pinked a little.

Draco rose to his feet, patted Kona’s head, and mumbled something about going to look for some suitable clothes for Harry to wear. Harry smirked into his water glass, emptied it, and then walked over to play with Kona, who was more than grateful for the attention.


	16. A Walk In The Park

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)

* * *

Harry waited patiently for Draco to let Kona off her leash, watched him fool around with the beautiful dog, then toss a bright yellow tennis ball as far as he possibly could.

Kona dashed off, barking, and chased after the ball. Taking a step towards Draco, Harry snuck an arm around his waist, squeezed his hip and pulled him closer. Draco came willingly and, feeling rather bold, Harry took the leash from Draco and draped the sturdy brown leather lead around Draco’s shoulders.

“Pretty,” he smirked and swallowed the remainder of what he would have liked to say — _you’d look so fucking gorgeous with an emerald-studded collar around your neck and that leash attached to an O-ring at the front_.

“I’m not a dog, you know,” Draco said with a half-hearted glare.

“Nah, you’re my little prince,” Harry teased with a chuckle.

Draco rolled his eyes, mockingly, then managed to shock Harry with what he said next.

“There are better things you could do with that leash.”

The mischievous glint in his eyes was unmistakable.

“Oh?”

Harry raised a curious eyebrow.

Draco merely winked at him and said nothing more which both irked and intrigued Harry because he could think of several things, he could do to Draco with just that leash.

He watched as Draco bend down to pick up the tennis ball — now drenched in saliva — Kona had returned with and for a second, Harry had to fight the urge to smack Draco’s arse. Not because he wanted to punish him but because it looked so utterly delicious in those tight black skinny jeans he had chosen to wear.

When Draco had first put them on, Harry had fought with himself. The mere sight, the suggestiveness of those jeans, it had made him want to throw Draco onto the bed and ravish him. He had almost told Draco so, but he was sure that the look in his eyes had given him away. Draco had stared at him for the longest time, swallowed hard and finally flushed a lovely shade of pinkish red.

After Draco had thrown the ball for Kona and surreptitiously cast a wandless cleaning charm on his sticky hand, he turned his attention back to Harry and smirked.

“You were saying?”

“Wasn’t saying anything.”

Harry smiled, pulled Draco a little closer and was throwing propriety right out of the proverbial window when he gave him a morally questionable kiss that turned into a heated battle of the tongues.

Not even Kona’s persistent barking could break them apart and it took her jumping up at them both and nearly sending them flying flat onto their backs to break the kiss.

“You are way too naughty for your own good,” Harry grumbled and let go of Draco.

He bent down, picked up Kona’s ball, and tossed it a good few metres further than Draco had.  
  
“She’s an only child, they are attention hoggers.”

Draco laughed and Harry gave him a pointed look.

“You make me want to say something you won’t like.”

“Go on, Potter, hit me with your worst insult.”

“Spoilt, overindulged, pampered brat,” Harry said and mentally prepared himself to start fending off stinging hexes.

“Aww, Harry, you say the sweetest things! Although, I do take offence at being called a _brat_. I think Slytherin Prince of Darkness has a much better ring to it, don’t you?”

Harry bowed mockingly.

“Your Royal Highness, it is an honour.”

“Now look at that, finally a Gryffindor who knows his place; at the feet of one Lord Draco Lucius Malfoy, Prince of Darkness—”

“Prosecutor Extraordinaire and Fiendfyre of the Wizengamot Courtrooms—” Harry paused and took a step closer.

He fixed Draco with a piercing stare and smiled devilishly, then dropped his voice to a mere whisper.

“If my memory serves me right, it was _you_ who was at _my_ feet this morning, not the other way around.”

He watched Draco swallow hard, and grabbed both ends of the leash still hanging from Draco’s neck.

“Want to do it again?” Harry drawled. “You did look rather beautiful with my cock in your pretty little mouth, sucking me off. My, Draco, where _did_ you learn to be _so_ filthy?” he teased unabashedly, held Draco’s gaze, and watched his eyes darken, watched him squirm and chuckled lowly.

“Circe, Salazar and Merlin,” Draco breathed. “You’re definitely making up for holding out on me, aren’t you?”

“Oh, most definitely, I’ll have you whimpering beneath me, begging me to let you come in no time.”

“I—,” Draco started but left that sentence unfinished.

Instead, he tugged the leash out of Harry’s hands and Harry let it go. He let Draco bend down, pick up Kona’s ball and stood back as Draco sought to distract his mind — _and his undoubtedly throbbing cock_ — from the entirely pornographic images Harry had purposefully planted there.

 _You are enjoying this way too much_ , a little voice in his head told him and Harry couldn’t help but agree.

He was, however, also painfully aware that Draco still didn’t know anything about the extent of his love for kink and the type of relationship he preferred and his wrist itched a little, gently reminding him of a time, long, long ago, that he would rather forget, given half a chance.

Back then, Charlie had offered to obliviate him, to take those memories away for good, but he had rejected that offer, determined to deal with his demons, determined to learn from his mistakes, determined to grow and become a stronger person, a better man, an experienced Dom.

For the rest of the morning, Harry resolutely restrained himself and put a lid on all his kinky remarks. He didn’t quite manage to stop himself from thinking them, but he decided to give Draco a break.

When half past noon rolled around and Kona had exhausted herself and both his and Draco’s stomachs began to rumble, Harry invited Draco to lunch and they headed towards Portobello Road in the heart of Notting Hill. Draco suggested a Japanese ramen restaurant and Harry nodded in silent agreement.

As they walked, with Draco holding Kona’s leash in one hand, Harry couldn’t quite resist the temptation to take Draco’s free hand and they walked in comfortable silence, which Harry soon broke. His earlier rather dominant behaviour weighted heavily on his mind and he simply had to make sure that Draco hadn’t taken offence at his forwardness and was now merely putting up a mask to keep his thoughts and feelings to himself.

“Draco,” he spoke softly. “I’m sorry, if I was a bit too explicit earlier,” he apologised, mildly surprised when Draco turned and looked at him with a smirk.

“You have a very filthy mouth, Potter, do you know that?”

“I have been told,” Harry shrugged.

“Relax, I like a bit of dirty talk, it’s hot. Sweetest kind of mindfuck really, as long as the real thing happens sometime after the dirty talk, of course.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to getting another blow job from you, you are rather good.”  
  
“So are you, Harry, so are you.”

Draco smiled and cut their conversation short when they arrived at the restaurant and they realised that there were no tables outside. Draco tied Kona to a lamp post to which she objected with a lengthy whine and Harry patted her head and ruffled her behind the ears.

She gave an approving low woof and they both headed inside the restaurant. Harry let Draco choose their table and they ended up sitting by the window, where Kona could see them. A young Japanese waiter approached them, served them a glass of lemon water each and handed them the menu. Harry placed his on the table and smiled when Draco frowned.

“Don’t tell me you’re not hungry?” he wanted to know.

“Famished,” Harry answered truthfully.

“You order, surprise me with something good.”

Draco nodded and chuckled.

“Surprise lunch coming right up,” he said, skimmed over the menu, then called the waiter over and while he placed the order, Harry glanced outside the window and toyed with the dragon pendant around his neck.

It still felt both hot and cold to the touch, which was weird, and Harry reminded himself to tell Draco the truth soon.


	17. Pandora’s Box

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)
> 
> Before I you read this chapter, humour me for a moment. So, I've never had anyone draw fan art for my work but a couple of days ago I received the surprise of a lifetime when my wonderful muse ["K"](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vixens_thoughts/profile) who truly is a beautiful soul messaged me and said _I made this for you, hope you like it_ \- attached to the message was this sweet doodle of Harry's little prince, complete with a little crown and naturally bound in ropes. I swear, I spent the next hour shivering and it wasn't because I was cold because f*ck it, but someone loves me story enough to doodle me something beautiful. I want to cry I'm so happy.
> 
> Anyway, before I bore you completely, please enjoy.
> 
>   
>  [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/40765334903/in/dateposted-public/)  
>   
> 
> 
> Also, with this chapter I'm going for a bit of a jump in the timeline, and you'll get a bit of an unexpected treat, or at least I hope it is one. I don't think I'll have to ask for your thoughts, you share those willingly anyway and let me just say how absolutely blown away I am with all your comments. I want to say _please, don't ever stop!_ because you are just such beautiful people -- I'm also just a little overwhelmed at how much traction this story has gotten. I normally don't pay much attention to hit counts but the numbers for this story, well I can't help myself, I just stop and stare, because well, wow.

* * *

Dressed in tailormade black leather trousers, a burgundy button-up shirt, and a snug-fitting black leather jacket, Harry confidently approached the entrance to Pandora’s Box, London’s most exclusive BDSM dungeon. He handed the bulky scary-looking security guard at the entrance his invitation card to Caleb’s private party, as well as his platinum membership card, which entitled him to all sorts of VIP privileges.

“Like I wouldn’t recognise you from a mile away,” Ekon laughed and handed both the invitation card and Harry’s membership card back to him. He stepped aside and pushed the door to the club open.

“Nice necklace, _Sir_ ,” he said when Harry stepped past him and Harry gave him a devious smirk which Ekon returned with ferocity.

“Thank you, E,” he responded politely, then vanished inside the club.

He had accessorised tonight’s outfight with a handmade diamond-studded triskelion symbol necklace, Charlie had given him for his twenty-first birthday.

He seldom wore it, but for tonight’s party, he had wanted a little something special.

At a fetish club, wearing leather was usually the perfect way to blend into the crowd.

A diamond-studded necklace, charmed to sparkle brightly even in low light, gave his whole outfit a bit of an edge; an elegant edge but an edge all the same.

Ascending the stairs, Harry headed down a dimly-lit corridor, made to look like the inside of a medieval castle. It was the club’s running theme and on night’s like tonight, when Harry wasn’t in his Dom headspace, the place never failed to remind him a little of Hogwarts and he chuckled to himself.

 _Minus all the fun torture equipment_ , he thought with a wicked grin and pushed the door to the _Sapphire_ room open. It was the club’s biggest and most luxurious private play and function room, equipped with its own bar, a broad selection of high-end BDSM furniture and a cabinet full of various toys, bondage gear and other fun things.

You had to, of course, purchase any toys before you could use them in a scene. The club had a strict No-Toy-Sharing policy which Harry valued as much as the founding pillars of BDSM — _Safe, Sane, Consensual_.

“Harry!”

“Trinity,” Harry smiled and allowed the imposing Dominatrix to engulf him in an almost bone-crushing hug.

“You’re looking… _hot_ ,” he praised, admiring her black fishnet stockings and gorgeous red corset one piece when she pulled away and teasingly ran her riding crop up his arm.

“You look like you stepped right out of my wet dream fantasy,” she blatantly flirted with him and Harry laughed.

“Rumour has it you prefer your boys at your feet, Mistress.”

Harry winked.

“Funny, I heard the same thing about you. We should play together sometime, really put my new sub through his paces,” Trinity said and threw one arm around his shoulder. She yelped a little when Harry snug his arm around her waist and gripped her hip firmly.

“Hm, I’d love to, but I’m in a steady relationship these days,” Harry politely rejected her offer, but kissed her on the cheek to sweeten the blow.

She pouted at him and Harry rolled his eyes, then extracted himself from her and made his excuses. He had spotted Caleb at the bar and was extremely grateful when his friend handed him a bottle of cool beer the moment he approached. He took a languid sip, perched himself on the barstool next to Caleb and leant back against the bar.

“Where’s the birthday boy?” he inquired.

“Mingling,” Caleb replied with a shrug. “Gave him the night off. Short of playing with anyone who isn’t me, he’s free to do whatever.”

“Aren’t you a benevolent Dom,” Harry teased with a low chuckle, shrugged his leather jacket off and placed it on the empty bar stool beside him.

“Only once a year.”

Caleb laughed and clinked his beer bottle against Harry’s.

“Where is your precious new pet? I thought you might finally introduce him to me, but no, you show up alone _again_. I’m starting to think that your Draco is a figment of your imagination.”

“If that was true, I wouldn’t waste my time in law enforcement but write novels instead.”

Harry turned slightly and gave Caleb a once-over. He hadn’t seen him in a few weeks and couldn’t deny that his friend looked rather good.

“Love suits you,” he complimented and Caleb smiled.

“I could say the same about you, only took one mention of his name and your eyes started sparkling brighter than that necklace of yours,” Caleb said, then leant in and the moment he opened his mouth Harry knew exactly what he was about to ask.

“Have you told him yet?”

Harry shook his head.

Caleb raised an eyebrow at him.

“It’s been— How long since you made things official?”

“Nearly two months.”

Harry shrugged and Caleb gave him a reproachful look that was more effective than a thousand words.

“I tried, really, I did,” Harry attempted to defend himself and Caleb’s glare turned withering.

“He’s been busy with a massive case these past two weeks, he’s not in the right headspace to deal with this,” Harry tried to explain and huffed when Caleb merely pursed his lips in response.

“Don’t be so judgemental.”

Harry sighed, exasperation creeping into his voice and after yet another moment of torture, Caleb’s expression softened and he smiled.

“I think you’re making a mountain out of a molehill, Harry,” he said, his voice soft and calm and Harry quietly sipped on his beer and surveyed the room.

He spotted Stefan near a table piled high with birthday gifts, who was engaged in an animated conversation with a group of people. He allowed himself to zone out as he tried to sort through his thoughts.

Six weeks had passed since Kingsley Shacklebolt had officially announced his promotion, six weeks since he and Draco had slept together for the first time and ever since then their sex life had been explosive, to say the least.

He could hardly get enough of fucking Draco and Draco could hardly get enough of taking it. While they managed to have civilised conversations and vanilla dates, once they started touching and kissing, they never managed to keep their hands off each other. Harry tried his best to control his dominant side but Draco was just so utterly compliant that he found it harder and harder to hold back.

A gentle squeeze of his knee pulled Harry back into the real world and he looked at a Caleb.

“I could really use your advice,” he admitted and Caleb smiled knowingly.

Caleb slid off his bar stool, told the bartender to hand him a six pack of beer and, bottles in hand, he motioned for Harry to follow him. Harry grabbed his leather jacket and they headed for one of the side rooms.

It was a small room with two comfortable red and black leather sofas and an African blackwood coffee table. It was simple and its only purpose was to provide privacy before a play, a quiet place to discuss limits, desires and needs before a scene commenced.

Caleb put the six pack down on the table, seated himself, and placed his left ankle on top of his right thigh. Harry rather ungracefully flopped onto the other sofa, leaned back, and stretched his legs out.

“Last time we chatted you told me that your Draco rather enjoyed your creative use of a dog leash.”

Caleb grinned and Harry smiled at the memory. Draco had been quite cheeky that day and after they had returned to Draco’s flat from taking Kona for a long walk, Draco had playfully smacked Harry with one end of the leash.

Harry had utilised his Auror skills, spun around, grabbed the leash, and swiftly tied it around Draco’s wrists before dragging him upstairs, raising Draco’s tied arms above his head, pinning them to the wall, and showing Draco exactly what happened to sexy blond prosecutors who didn’t keep their hands to themselves.

“He did rather enjoy that,” Harry nodded.

“He also has a bit of a penchant for ropes, though so far I’ve only tied his hands to the bed and it’s all been completely spontaneous and in the heat of the moment, not planned. He does, however, rather like the pet name I’ve given him.”

“Oh?”

Caleb quirked an eyebrow but Harry shook his head.  
  
“I promised him I’d keep it between us.”

“Fair enough, a promise is a promise.”

Caleb nodded approvingly.

“Have you tried anything a little kinkier?”

Knowing that he couldn’t tell Caleb about the ancient rune spell he had used on Draco just the other day — _which had resulted in Draco coming completely untouched and very nearly descending into subspace_ — Harry mentioned the mild spanking he had given Draco and how much Draco had enjoyed it.

* * *

**Flashback Start**

* * *

_“Naughty boys like you should be spanked,” Harry growled, grabbed Draco, and flipped him onto his front. Draco yelped in surprise, turned his head sideways and defiantly stared up at Harry, who felt his hand twitch._

_“I dare you, Potter.”_

_Draco smirked at him and the itch to bring his hand down firmly on Draco’s pert buttocks grew more intense but he resisted giving in to his instincts._

_Instead, he hesitated._

_He looked at Draco, really looked, but when he saw nothing but pure arousal and sass, he decided to chance it. Making sure Draco could see his hand, he raised it and just as Draco sucked in a sharp breath, Harry brought the flat of his hand down on Draco’s bare arse and positively delighted in the resulting smacking sound. His hand connected with Draco’s left buttock, leaving a very nice red imprint of his hand behind._

_Draco shrieked, buried his face in the mattress, and let out a low moan as a shudder surged through his body. The impact of Harry’s hand connecting with his arse had clearly startled him._

_Harry gently caressed the mark he had left behind. He let his fingers ghost over it and leant down. He kissed his cheek tenderly, then pressed his lips to Draco’s ear._

_“Are you okay?” he asked very softly and let out a small sigh of relief when Draco nodded into the mattress, turned his head, and looked at him with slightly watery eyes._

_“Fuck— I didn’t think you would actually do it.”_

_“Hm, you did dare me,” Harry pointed out and pressed a soft kiss against Draco’s earlobe._

_He nuzzled the sensitive skin softly and hummed._

_“Did you hate it?” he wanted to know._

_“No,” Draco admitted truthfully and Harry could tell that being this honest couldn’t have been easy for Draco._

_His voice was barely audible and, sparing him any further questions, Harry kissed Draco’s shoulder._

_He trailed a series of tiny kisses down Draco’s spine and then kissed every inch of the mark he had left on Draco’s buttock. He kissed and licked and nipped at the sensitive skin and Draco trembled beneath him._

_Harry could feel Draco pressing his crotch against the mattress and saw the way he clenched and relaxed his arse cheeks. Harry slipped a single finger into the crack between Draco’s buttocks, sought out Draco’s hole and teased it tenderly, rubbing gentle circles around the puckered flesh._

_He bit Draco’s arse, then soothed the bite with his lips and tongue. Draco moaned and mumbled something entirely incoherent._

_After a while, Harry stopped, pulled away and pressed his lips back against Draco’s ear._

_“Such a good little prince you are, not at all naughty anymore. I spanked it right out of you, didn’t I?”_

_To Harry’s surprise —_ he hadn’t expected an answer to his question, especially because he had used Draco’s nickname _— Draco gave a feeble nod and Harry pulled away and looked at Draco. He looked at his face and found Draco worrying his bottom lip nervously._

_“Are you okay?” Harry asked yet again, just a little worried._

_In response, Draco sighed._

_His cheeks pinked, he flushed and averted his eyes._

_“Liked it, didn’t you?” Harry prodded softly, wondering whether a simple yes or no question might come easier to Draco in his current state._

_It took several minutes before Draco finally answered him and when he did his voice was low and shaky._

_“Yes, yes, I did,” he breathed and Harry smiled and stroked Draco’s hair affectionately._

_“Want more?” Harry pushed and he gently traced the outline of his hand on Draco’s arse._

_He wasn’t even surprised when Draco nodded but he found it utterly endearing when Draco flushed crimson and kissed him gently._

_Part of him wanted to make Draco ask for it, but he had the feeling that it wouldn’t go down well, so, instead, he kissed Draco’s shoulder and enticed him in an entirely different way._

_“Take four and I’ll rim you until you come screaming my name,” he whispered into Draco’s ear._

_Draco practically mewled and Harry wondered whether he might ask for it after all._

_He didn’t._

_He did; however, nod enthusiastically and then buried his face in the mattress. Harry slipped his hand into Draco’s and held on tight, stroked Draco’s pert arse tenderly, and wisely gave Draco a few moments to mentally prepare himself._

_“Ready?” he checked and the moment Draco nodded, Harry brought his hand firmly down on Draco’s arse._

_Draco groaned, his scream muffled by the mattress and Harry squeezed Draco’s hand tightly. He gave him a moment to relax, admired the reddening skin of Draco’s arse, then brought his hand down again._

_His third stroke was almost as hard as his first one and Draco trembled, bucked his hips, and groaned into the mattress. Harry didn’t wait for Draco to finish but delivered the final blow instead and Draco sobbed and whimpered softly._

* * *

**Flashback End**

* * *

As Harry fell silent, Caleb smiled.

“And this is why I asked you to train my sub because you understand better than anyone,” he praised and Harry felt himself flush a little.

“Understand what?” Harry frowned.

“The subtle things, the things people don’t say, don’t do, you feel them, you’re good at reading people.”

“I didn’t use to be,” Harry chuckled.

“When I was 14 this girl had a massive crush on me and I was completely oblivious until my best friend told me straight up.”

“Well, seems like twelve years of practice did you the world of good. Did Tom Riddle have anything to do with it, by any chance?” Caleb teased and Harry rolled his eyes.

Caleb had a penchant for trying to work out the story behind Harry’s safe word but Harry was sure that Caleb would never manage to get him to disclose any information about that part of his life.  
  
“Sod off, I’m not going to tell you, not even if you cane me.”

“Are you asking me to?”

Caleb’s eyes twinkled with mirth.

“I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer, Reid.”

“Boundaries duly noted and respected.”

Caleb nodded with a smile, then turned serious.

“You did talk to him about it afterwards, didn’t you?” he wanted to know and Harry inclined his head. Of course, he had talked to Draco about it. It had been several hours later, but they had talked it through.

* * *

**Flashback Start**

* * *

_Harry watched with an amused smile as the two characters in the movie fooled around by the campfire and chased each other down to the beach._

_At the water’s edge Eric caught up with Julia and Harry’s smile grew into a smirk as he watched Eric clasp his hand around Julia’s wrist. She made a sassy comment, gave him a defiant look and Eric smacked her swimsuit-clad bum, then pulled her into his arms and kissed her._

_He felt Draco stiffen and gasp beside him and knew at once what Draco was thinking about. Turning his head slightly, he looked at Draco and noted the faint flush on his cheek and the way he gnawed at his bottom lip. He pulled Draco a little closer, leant in and placed a gentle kiss on Draco’s cheek. He let his hand travel up the back of Draco’s thigh, cupped his left buttock and squeezed gently._

_“Knut for your thoughts,” he breathed against Draco’s cheek._

_Draco shuddered and let out a low whimper when Harry squeezed his arse again._

_“You really did like it, didn’t you?” he asked, pulled back slightly, and looked at Draco’s flushed face._

_His pupils were dilated and his breathing was a little ragged. He was a beautiful sight and Harry felt his cock stir with mild interest._

_Instead of acting on it, he noted Draco’s shaking hand and placed his own on top of it, squeezing gently._

_“I—” Draco whispered and flushed a little more._

_“Tell me,” Harry encouraged gently._

_“Tell me what you liked about it.”_

_“I’m not sure,” Draco said tentatively._

_“The pain was a bit intense but what you did afterwards, it— it was so hot,” he admitted and averted his eyes._

_Movie forgotten, Harry shuffled a little, placed a single finger underneath Draco’s chin and gently persuaded Draco to look at him._

_It took a bit of coaxing but eventually, he relented and looked up. His eyes were almost dark with arousal and Harry smiled softly._

_He didn’t need Draco to say the words, he was certain that Draco had enjoyed himself and that he couldn’t stop thinking about the moment Harry’s hand had connected with his bare arse cheek, couldn’t stop thinking about Harry caressing the tender skin afterwards, kissing it, licking it, biting it ever so gently._

_“You know, Draco, there’s a fine line between pleasure and pain. What you felt wasn’t so much the pain but the pleasure that followed. That turned you on, it made you want more.”_

_“I’ve never felt like this, you’re turning me into a kinky monster, Potter.”_

_Draco smiled and Harry chuckled. Somewhere amidst all the coyness was his sassy Draco and Harry thought that he knew just how to get him to come out to play._

_Leaning close, he kissed the side of Draco’s neck and bit the sensitive skin gently. Draco whimpered and let his head fall back against the backrest of the sofa. He turned his head and exposed his neck to Harry._

_Harry assaulted it with a series of tiny licks and bites, then sucked Draco’s earlobe into his mouth and repeatedly flicked his tongue over it. As he did so, his hand found its way to Draco’s arse and he squeezed, massaging the pert buttock through Draco’s loose trousers._

_Draco moaned softly and Harry breathed hotly across Draco’s neck. His warm breath and the saliva-cooled skin moulded together perfectly and Draco mumbled something that sounded strangely like_ please, more _. Bringing his mouth close to Draco’s ear, Harry kissed it softly, then opened his mouth to speak._

_“I fucking loved it, your sass, you all but asked for it, it was so hot. Your skin turned such a lovely shade of red. I love the idea of my hand’s imprint on your arse. You’re mine, all mine. I love that I get to leave a naughty little mark on you for me to imagine and you to feel, such a turn on. Hm, Draco, you looked so good, the sounds you made—”_

_Harry paused, and pulled away to look at Draco’s face. He was staring at him, wide-eyed, looking like he was about to space out and Harry wanted to ravish him, wanted to strip him off all his clothes, conjure a rope to bind his wrists behind his back and fuck him right here on the sofa, with his legs spread far apart and his entire body shaking from each rough thrust._

_“I want more,” Draco whispered, flushed crimson, and let out a soft, stifled moan._

_“Fuck, Harry, fuck, what did you do to me?”_

_Harry smiled._

_He could tell that Draco hadn’t meant to tell him that he wanted more, that it had slipped past his lips before he had been able to stop himself. Wanting to reward Draco for his honesty, Harry leant in and captured Draco’s lips in tender and loving kiss._

_When he pulled away, he looked deep into Draco’s eyes and smirked._

_“I’ll give you five seconds’ head start before I start chasing you,” he whispered and Draco’s eyes widened._

_When the realisation of what Harry had just said to him sunk in, he extracted himself from Harry’s embrace, scrambled off the couch, and dashed up the stairs._

_Harry laughed, rose to his feet, stretched languidly and slowly, then followed Draco without any hurry at all. He had no intention of spanking Draco again but knew from experience that the anticipation of the inevitable was almost as thrilling as the actual event itself._

* * *

**Flashback End**

* * *

“Jesus fucking Christ, Potter, your man’s practically begging you to spank him, he lets you tie him up and whisper dirty things into his ear and you still won’t talk to him? I don’t get you. From what you’ve told me, I’ve never ever met a more naturally submissive person than your Draco there,” Caleb said firmly and started on his second beer.

He fixed Harry with a piercing glare. Harry wanted to squirm, wanted to laugh, and wanted to look away but he did none of those things. He held Caleb’s gaze, looked him straight in the eye, and sighed.

“Soon,” he mumbled and he could tell that Caleb wasn’t pleased with his answer but said nothing to push him further. He appreciated it. Caleb’s sense of decorum was truly refreshing. He knew exactly when to push and when to back down.


	18. Raging Fiendfyre, Subdued Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)

* * *

Bagged lunch, fresh from a new Italian eatery not too far from the Ministry, in hand, Harry made his way down the corridor and towards the Ministry’s Prosecutors’ Chambers.

He heard Draco long before he saw him and it briefly made him stop in his tracks.

Draco was shouting at the top of his lungs, silencing everything and anyone around him and it sounded scary, terrifying even. His voice was as harsh as the sound of a whip cracking through the air, as sharp as a diamond knife slicing through rock as though it was butter.

Shuddering a little, Harry made a mental note to never end up at the receiving end of Draco’s unadulterated wrath, then continued walking and resolutely entered the Prosecutors’ Chambers.

Inside the large open-plan office it looked as though a bomb had exploded. Papers and stationary lay strewn about everywhere and several chairs were upturned, their wheels still turning slowly, pathetically. The place was usually a chaotic nightmare, Draco had explained this to him, but what Harry was looking at right this moment wasn’t ordinary chaos.

It resembled the remnants of someone having temporarily lost control over his magic and judging by the signature of the lingering ambient magic, Harry knew exactly who the culprit was. None other than Draco Malfoy, prosecutor extraordinaire and the man he had fallen head over heels in love with was to blame for the havoc.

Harry frowned.

He couldn’t fathom what had happened to upset Draco so much that he was yelling the entire department to shreds. Surveying the proverbial war zone, Harry noted that nobody was moving, least of all the poor guy Draco was presently throwing a truly colourful insult at.

“Barnaby— you truly are an irredeemably, nonintuitive unequivocally witless half-wit!”

Draco shouted at a brunette boy, who was a good few inches shorter than him and presently shaking like a leaf. He looked like he was about to burst into tears and even though Harry knew it was morally wrong, he couldn’t stop the smirk that crept onto his face. When Draco was in the right mood, he had a way with words that took Harry’s breath away. It was, if Harry was entirely honest, quite arousing.

“I asked you to do _one_ fucking thing! _One_ simple task! I even wrote you a script for it, and you go and manage to fuck that up! You asked me to take you seriously, you begged me to give you a chance, and when I do this is how you repay me? I’m truly astounded by what a vapid odiously suffocating depravity of genetics you are. How did you pass your bar exam? For the love of the great Salazar Slytherin, I daren’t imagine what you did to get your certification!”

Draco continued to insult the poor boy and Harry felt Draco’s magic flare up again. It rolled off Draco in waves and Harry felt the almost irresistible temptation to cast his Patronus and sent it galloping towards Draco in the hope that it might calm his livid boyfriend down just a little.

“Barnaby, I swear, if your imbecilic error cost me my case I will personally rip you to shreds and I promise you compared to you splinching yourself it will be a walk in the park! I told you I needed that witness prepared, and what did you give me? A stammering, useless bundle of nerves. Ever heard of a fucking calming draught? Ever heard of talking a bit of confidence into somebody? The defence ripped Emma to shreds. She was our star witness and they ripped her to shreds. You, Barnaby, are a truly frightful proof that evolution can go in reverse! If your fuck-up is going to put a serial killer back onto the streets, I will slice you open and tear out your guts!”

Draco snapped and Harry watched as he fell silent, fixed Barnaby with an ice-cold death glare and lowered his voice to a threatening whisper.

“You’re _fired_ , get out of my sight before I draw my wand and give the healers at St Mungo’s a reason to work overtime tonight.”

Harry watched as Draco turned on his heels and walked down the corridor into the direction of his office. A few seconds later a door slammed loudly and another few seconds later, a sobbing Barnaby stormed past Harry and out the door. Everyone slowly began to relax and several employees silently started to clean up the mess of papers.

Harry, careful not to step on any potentially important documents, crossed the large open-plan office and headed down the corridor into the direction of Draco’s office. He had witnessed enough to know exactly what had happened and why Draco was furious. He felt that it was his duty to somehow try and calm Draco down.

Approaching Draco’s private office, Harry knocked confidently but didn’t get an answer.

He waited a few moments, then boldly pressed the handle down, pushed the door open, and gasped in surprise. The sight that greeted him wasn’t at all what he had expected to see.

He had been expecting a seething murderous-looking red-faced Draco Malfoy.

Instead, he found himself confronted with an almost manic-looking, frantically pacing version of Draco, who was wringing his hands and repeatedly mumbling something about having to find a way to fix the mess Barnaby had caused.

Harry’s heart constricted painfully and he felt the overpowering urge to wrap his arms around Draco, pull him into a tight embrace, hold him close and tell him that everything would be all right. Harry and his team of Aurors had helped arrest the bastard Draco was trying to have convicted for multiple vicious murder. He was all too familiar with the case, Draco was currently working on, and of all the public scrutiny that the trial was getting. He felt his blood freeze just a little at the thought that a vile monster may just end up on the streets again due to a clerical error.

Resolutely walking into the room, Harry let the door fall closed behind him and placed the bagged lunch on Draco’s desk. He stepped right into Draco’s path, stopped him from pacing and took both his wrists into his hands. He squeezed gently, skilfully manoeuvred Draco around and made it so that he was standing with his back towards his desk and slightly perched on top of it.

“Look at me,” he said firmly.

Since he had his fingers pressed against the pulse points on Draco’s wrists, he could feel his pounding heartbeat which seemed to be increasing at a rapid pace instead of slowing down.

As Draco’s eyes settled on his own, Harry could see the trepidation in them and he wondered if Draco had heard him at all. He was, and Harry had no doubt about that, seconds away from having a full-blown panic attack. There wasn’t an ounce of anger left in him, only blind panic.

“Breathe,” Harry reminded him.

He kept his voice firm and steady, needing it to sound authoritative enough so that Draco would take note of it and react.

He felt Draco’s fingers clench into tight fists. His ragged and irregular breathing was a concern and Harry knew he had to help Draco control it first before he could properly get through to him. Draco opened his mouth but Harry shook his head.

“No, Draco, _breathe_. All I want you to do is breathe, listen to my voice, and breathe,” Harry instructed.

“Breathe _in_ —, breathe _out_ —, breathe _in_ —, breathe _out_ —, breathe _in_ —, breathe _out_ —,”

Harry repeatedly ordered, resolutely coaching him to breathe at a much slower and more appropriate rate.

With his eyes focused on Draco, Harry kept his voice steady and his instructions simple. He reminded himself that the worst thing he could tell Draco was to _calm down_ and knew from a previous experience with a submissive he had trained, that it would only make matters worse. Since driving him over the edge was the last thing Harry wanted, he stuck to telling Draco to breathe in and breathe out and it seemed to help.

Once his breathing had slowed a little, he slightly loosened his hold on Draco’s wrists and pressed his thumbs firmly against the pulse points. Looking at Draco, he could sense that he was about to lose focus. His eyes appeared glazed and Harry was sure that Draco was struggling against the sense of detachment he currently felt.

He had gone from extremely angry to extremely panicked within a very short time and while Harry had never studied medicine or psychology, he knew that both types of emotions were intense and draining, a strain on the body. One of them was bad enough to deal with but both in such rapid succession was a recipe for disaster and disaster was exactly that Harry was trying to prevent, hopefully.

“Look at me,” he reminded Draco firmly when his eyes started to droop and his attention began to wane.

“Harry—”

Draco tried to acknowledge his presence but Harry cut him short.

He didn’t want him grappling with words, trying to explain himself. He just wanted Draco to focus on him and only him.

“Don’t talk, just listen to me,” he insisted, circling his thumbs over Draco’s pulse points.

The motion was regular and repetitive, something for Draco to focus on besides his voice, something to hopefully keep Draco grounded.

“Focus on me, my voice, focus on my touch, right now that’s all that’s important. Nothing else matters, Draco, absolutely nothing else matters. You, me, right here, right now, that’s all there is,” Harry said in earnest

His voice was unwavering, just an even flow of firm encouragement and exactly what he thought Draco needed.

Since Draco’s skin felt cold and clammy, Harry harnessed his magic and with a wandless wordless spell, he directed a mild warming charm to slowly seep from his thumbs into Draco. It was to gradually warm him from the inside. He took another step closer, leaving practically no gap between them and kept his eyes focused on Draco. He continued to allow his thumbs to work their magic.

Draco looked tense, yet he was shaking and shivering and tiny pearls of sweat had gathered on his forehead, threatening to fall. Harry didn’t dare to imagine what his back felt like but suspected that Draco’s perspired shirt was probably clinging to his skin.

“There, that’s got to feel better. Slow and regular breathing, breathe _in_ , breathe _out._ Yes, just like that. You’re doing this so well, my little prince, I’m so proud of you,” Harry encouraged.

He allowed even more of his dominant side to shine through as he attempted to control the situation.

“Yes, very good. Keep breathing, Draco. Slow and easy, _in_ and _out_. Just focus on my voice, nothing else matters. I’ve got you and you are safe. I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere until you’re back to your old self.”

Harry unhurriedly continued his quest to calm Draco without actually telling him so.

His thumbs continued to slowly draw even circles over Draco’s pulse points. He felt Draco’s fists unclench and some of the rigidness started to leave his body. While he was far from relaxed, Harry knew that he had managed to break through the outer shell and was convinced that persistence would pay off.

“Draco, I have seen you in action, I know what you are capable of. _You_ know what you are capable of. This is all but a minor setback and you will get a conviction. You will find a way to sort this out, but you need to be rational about this. So, your assistant screwed up. It doesn’t matter.”

Harry paused when he felt Draco tense and allowed yet more of his dominant side to come out to play. He straightened himself up and kept his eyes fixed on Draco.

“ _No_ , Draco, _no!_ It doesn’t matter, you know that as well as I do. You know it so well. I know you planned for this, I know you haven’t played all your cards.”

He spoke with the calm and cool determination of an experienced Dom trying to get through to his rattled submissive. While he was fully aware that he was neither Draco’s Dom nor was Draco his submissive but right this moment it was of no concern to him. All that mattered was that he took care of Draco because right now that was what he needed.

“You have an entire team of prosecutors you can get onto the case. You have an investigative Auror team at your disposal. You can request that the Auror Department reopen the case and assists. You have endless possibilities. Losing your head is, however, not one of them. It’ll get you nowhere.” Harry said, noticing how even more tension seeped from Draco’s body and how he slumped a little.

His eyes appeared a little glazed over but he looked focused and Harry could tell that he was getting through to Draco, that he had broken down yet another barrier.

“You have no idea how absolutely alluring you are whenever you stand up in court to fight for the truth. You are full of confidence. You have a plan and even if you don’t you have everyone else believing that you have. You are like a dog with a bone and when you are onto something you will not let go. Seeing you like that, it’s one of the many reasons why I fell in love with you. You took my breath away, bewitched me so completely.”

Harry softened his voice and continued to run soothing circles over the pulse point on Draco’s left hand. He brought his right hand up to Draco’s face and cupped his cheek softly, gently.

“You can do this. You will do this. You will win this case and the papers will praise you for your fierceness, for your loyalty to the law, for your persistence.”

Draco’s eyelids fluttered a little and Harry allowed a small smile to creep onto his face. He ran his fingers through Draco’s hair and was surprised when a low mewl escaped Draco’s parted lips and he tilted his head and pushed it into Harry’s palm.

“Hm, I can tell you’re feeling better already, you have hugs and sweet caresses on your mind,” Harry whispered.

He let his hand rest at the nape of Draco’s neck and leant in to place a tender kiss on Draco’s lips.

Draco’s breathing hitched and he moaned, his eyes fluttered closed and Harry stroked the side of Draco’s neck, allowing his thumb to ghost along Draco’s jugular. He felt it pulsing beneath his barely-there touch and continued drawing circles over the inside of Draco’s wrist.

Several minutes passed before Draco opened his eyes again and when he did, Harry just about managed to keep the surprised expression off his face.

Draco’s eyes had completely glazed over, he looked dazed and thoroughly out of it.

He looked—

Harry was almost afraid to finish that thought but he had seen that look many times before and not only on Draco. He looked seconds away from drifting off into a trance-like state.

“Draco?” Harry asked softly.

“Hm,” Draco thankfully acknowledged him.

Harry wrapped him into a one-armed embrace, gently pulling Draco into his arms.

Draco was pliable goo and he practically melted against Harry, who let his wrist slip from his grasp as Draco hugged him, rested his cheek on his shoulder, and buried his face in the crook of Harry’s neck.

 _The last time he did that I tied him to the bed, edged him, fucked him senseless, and made him come three times_ , Harry thought.

When the realisation of what had just happened properly dawned on Harry, he barely managed to stop himself from stiffening.

One deep calming breath later he had caught himself and allowed his dominant side to take over. He let it guide him through the process of dealing with the predicament he now found himself in.

 _I think I most definitely sent him to another planet_ , Harry mused, hesitant to admit that Draco was halfway to subspace and for a moment he wanted to laugh but didn’t.

Instead, he decided to try his theory.  
  
“Draco?”

“Hm, feel funny, head’s fuzzy,” Draco responded.

Instead of extracting himself from Harry’s embrace, he buried himself deeper in his arms. Harry’s response, which was almost automated, was to tightened his hold on Draco.

 _Fuck_ , he thought, _no, no, I can’t have you go off into another world right now_.

Holding on as tightly as he could, he did his best to move Draco into his chair. It took a bit of effort, but eventually, Draco was sitting down. Resting back, he looked up at Harry with a stupid grin plastered across his face.

“You are a mindfuck, Harry Potter,” he mumbled.

Harry wanted to smirk because it was true but suppressed the urge for now.

He was more concerned with Draco completely succumbing to his trance-like state.

The last he wanted to deal with was Draco lost to the sensations of the chemical cocktail in his brain and mild subspace while they were on their lunch break. He knew from previous experience that it usually took several hours for Draco to fully emerge from his dazed-out state of blissful _I-don’t-give-a-damn-about-anything-because-I’m-as-high-as-a-kite_.

He also found it nearly unbelievable that his words and his touch had had this much of an effect on Draco and wondered what might happen if he pushed Draco just a little further, just a little past his boundaries.

Draco was, and Harry had no doubt about it, extremely prone to subspace, and given the right treatment, he drifted off into it like a baby drifted off to sleep.

Still, Harry couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that he had managed to talk and caress Draco into an altered state of mind. It was freaky and it took him all his willpower and then some to keep his composure. Draco still needed him, needed Harry to take care of him. While they hadn’t had sex, Harry always took aftercare seriously, very seriously. To him it simply wasn’t optional, never optional.

“Thank you, you are quite something yourself, my little prince.” Harry smiled.

He perched himself on Draco’s desk. He reached behind him to grab the bag of lunch he had gotten for them both.

“While you look utterly dashing, all blissed-out like this, I’d rather you eat something. Will you do that for me?” Harry asked, then moved to open the lunch bag, and pulled out a box of freshly made Chicken Caesar Salad.

Taking the lid off, he handed it and a plastic fork to Draco.

“Here, have that, you need some food in you,” he urged him to eat.

Draco accepted the food and though his movement was slow, sluggish, and slightly uncoordinated, he carefully dug his fork into the fresh salad and lifted a mouthful of food to his mouth. As he chewed on the lettuce, croutons and chicken, Draco’s eyes appeared to clear a little and he became more focused.

Harry reached into the bag and pulled out his own lunch, a box of Linguini with Carrot Turkey Ragu, and opening it up, he enjoyed a mouthful of the still-warm food.

“There’s also Tuscan Vegetable Soup and two desserts,” he teased and Draco’s head instantly shot up.

“Desserts?” he asked.

The wicked gleam in his eyes made Harry laugh.

“Yes, desserts. One is tiramisu and the other is pannacotta, both are for you.”

“Tell me there’s espresso!” Draco demanded with almost childish excitement.

Harry wordlessly handed him a small cup with a double espresso he had put under a Stasis Charm to preserve the taste and the heat.

Draco instantly rolled his chair closer to the table, set his lunch down and took the lid off the takeaway cup. He gulped the coffee down and gave Harry a silly grin.

“You, Potter,” he said, then paused, stood up and moved to stand right in front of him.

Harry had just about enough time to put his own food down before Draco threw his arms around him and engulfed him in a tight hug.

“As corny as this sounds, I love you,” he whispered.

Harry felt a rush of deep affection surge through him.

“I love you too,” he responded and sneaked his arms around Draco’s waist. He held him close, spread his legs a little and let Draco close the small gap between them.

He gently kissed the side of Draco’s neck, nipped at the sensitive skin and when Draco moaned into his shoulder, he placed a lingering kiss on that extremely erogenous spot just behind his ear.

“You’re making me horny,” Draco told him.

Harry chuckled, then pulled back a little and looked at him.

“Doesn’t take much,” he whispered with a teasing smile and was about to say something else when Draco kissed him.

Forgetting whatever he had been about to say, he allowed Draco to sneak his tongue past his lips and into his mouth. As Draco took charge, Harry, just this once, happily took the backseat and they leisurely kissed for the longest time.

It was only when Draco really struggled to fill his lungs with enough oxygen that he slowly broke away and looked at Harry with a slightly stupefied expression.

“I don’t know what magic you used to talk me out of my manic state, but _you_ , Harry Potter, are most definitely a keeper. You bring me desserts, you bring me coffee, your voice drives me to the edge of my sanity and your body drags me right over it, repeatedly. _You_ I will not be letting go any time soon.”

“Nor I you,” Harry replied.

To make his point, he tightened his hold on Draco and kissed his lips.

When they separated a while later, Draco looked at him for the longest time, then smiled softly.

“I expect you to take care of me properly tonight, Potter.”

He smirked, sat down in his chair, folded one leg over the other, and resumed eating with a nonchalance that drove Harry wild.

It made Harry want to do crazy things. It made him want to throw all caution into the wind. He wanted to cast a strong locking charm on the door, vanish Draco’s clothes, make him kneel on the chair. He wanted to tie his arms firmly to the backrest and his legs to the armrests, then fuck him hard, fast, and rough.

Harry very resolutely pushed that thought, the whole idea even, into a dark corner of his mind and tried his best not to indulge in the fantasy.

“And exactly how do you expect me to take care of you tonight?” he asked with a raised eyebrow and stuffed a forkful of linguini into his mouth.

“I’m sure you’ll think of something, you always seem to do.” Draco winked.

Harry just about managed to suppress a groan.

Trust Draco to find a way to make him imagine a thousand and one ways that he could take care of him.

 _Oh, I will take care of you, my little prince, I will take care of you so well, I promise you that,_ Harry thought with a controlled shudder of excitement.

“Are you due in court this afternoon?” he asked, both to distract his mind from succumbing to the vast array of kinky thoughts that were threatening to overwhelm him, and because he had sinister intentions.

Draco nodded and eyed the lunch bag with a greedy look. Harry smiled, picked it up and teasingly dangled it in front of Draco. When Draco went to reach for it, he snatched it away and smiled when he frowned because Harry was purposefully withholding dessert.

“So insatiable.”

Harry shook his head and Draco smiled.

“You and me both,” he said and four words were enough for Harry to understand that veiled innuendo.

“It really is a pity that you are due in court this afternoon.” Harry dropped his voice a little, handed Draco the lunch bag, and, keeping his eyes fixed on Draco’s, he licked his lips.

Draco’s eyes darkened a little as the implication of Harry’s words sank in and Harry smiled victoriously.

 _You play a good game, sweet one, but I will win this round, of that you can be sure_ , he mused with a silent chuckle.

“And why is that?” Draco looked at him, mildly aroused and most definitely intrigued.

“Because if you had an afternoon of boring paperwork ahead of you, I’d make you pull your trousers down, bend you over your desk and fuck you so hard that my cock would be all you’d be thinking about while you do your paperwork. Alas, what with this case being so important, it wouldn’t be fair of me to distract you in that way. You’ll just have to wait until tonight.”

Draco growled and fixed him with an icy death glare.

Harry laughed.

“Your tough-guy-act does not scare me, Malfoy, I know how to make you melt.”

 _In fact, I made you melt less than twenty minutes ago_.

The memory of how easy it had been to make Draco melt made Harry shudder and he thought back to his conversation with Caleb. He decided that he really had to tell Draco the truth.

He simply had to ‘fess up, had to tell Draco about his choice of lifestyle, his love of kink and his preferred relationship style. But before he took that step, he had to speak to Charlie. He needed a bit of advice before he took the plunge because, for the first time in a long time, Harry was just a little scared.

He was afraid of what Draco might think and scared of what Draco might do once he knew it all.

Yes, despite his usual bravado, Harry was feeling out of sorts and had been for a while. He was worried that Draco might not understand, scared that they might end up fighting and concerned that Draco might feel pressured to do something he wasn’t ready for.

“You only know how to make me give in because I let you make me yield to you,” Draco replied flippantly.

Harry abandoned his inner monologue and watched Draco thoroughly enjoy a bite of tiramisu instead.

“That’s very true,” he acquiesced with a small nod.

Without really knowing what he was saying, without knowing all the details, Draco had hit the nail on the head.

It was only because he allowed Harry to influence him that Harry managed to affect him this much. It was exactly this that turned Harry on and what excited him so much. He didn’t much enjoy forcing somebody’s submission, it didn’t give him pleasure… Unless it was a scene, previously discussed and outlined, and even then, Harry preferred natural submission, the kind that came so easy to Draco. It was Draco’s willingness, his trust and how much he enjoyed it, that made the experience so much more special.

 _Yes, little prince, you deserve to know everything_ , Harry thought fondly and smiled as Draco pushed yet another forkful of tiramisu into his mouth, made a most indecent sound and looked positively blissed out.

 _How would you like to kneel at my feet, letting me feed you your favourite dessert_? Harry mused but resolutely stopped himself from indulging in his kinky thoughts.

He really had to talk to Charlie. While Caleb had already done his best to push him in the right direction, he absolutely needed Charlie’s expertise on the matter.

Or did he? Maybe he was making this more difficult for himself than it had to be...


	19. Afternoon Tea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)
> 
> So, I thought I’d let them finally talk about things, then I had a different idea altogether and decided to make you lovely souls suffer just that little bit longer...

* * *

“Is all this extravaganza entirely necessary, Mother?” Draco asked.

He surveyed the grand display before him. Whenever he came home for tea — or any meal really — it was always the same. His mother went all out for him.

Well, she told the house elves to go all out for him.

His mother wasn’t the kind of mother who spent her time in the kitchens; cooking and baking.

The Manor’s house elves had, as usual, outdone themselves and not only prepared a teapot full of his mother’s favourite yellow tea but also prepared a large cup of Draco’s favourite cappuccino.

Three cake stands, laden with a vast selection of tiny sandwiches, biscuits, pastries, and cakes stood on the table. While the table was set for two, there was most definitely enough to drink and eat to feed a small army and taking his seat, Draco elegantly placed one leg over the other. He reached for his cappuccino, wrapped both his hands around the large mug and leaning back in the comfortable wingback wicker chair, he smiled at his mother.

She reciprocated and pouring herself a cup of tea, she added two pieces of brown rock sugar, stirred her beverage until the sugar had dissolved and then gracefully picked her tea up and took a small sip. She nodded in silent approval and Draco chuckled.

Somehow, everything his mother did, she did with an air of elegance and beauty that was simply breath-taking. There wasn’t anything pretentious about it; it was just the way she was.

She was a refined woman, a beautiful creature with a warm heart of gold, though she kept that firmly under lock and key.

Few were privy to ever see the real Narcissa Malfoy.

Draco was one of those few lucky ones.

At some point, his father had been too but since he was serving a life sentence in Azkaban, his mother had made it her mission to shower him with all her love instead. Draco occasionally had to gently remind her to rein it in but he mostly allowed her to get away with it.

“For you, it is absolutely necessary,” his mother chuckled softly.

Draco rolled his eyes.

“You needn’t flatter me, I’ll love you regardless, Mother,” he grinned.  
  
“I have ulterior motives, my darling son.”

“Yes, I thought you might,” Draco nodded.

In his last letter, he had insinuated that he had news to share with his mother.

The mere knowledge of the fact that he had something important to tell her was enough to bring out the devious side in her, though she hid her cunningness underneath a thick layer of poise.

Deciding to let her stew for a little while longer, Draco reached for a small chocolate cake and taking a bite he delighted in the burst of sourness that filled his mouth as he sunk his teeth into the liqueur-filled cherry inside the tiny cake. It mixed perfectly with the sweet bitterness of the chocolate and Draco hummed in approval.

He went on to casually sip on his cappuccino but felt his mother’s eyes on him. She was trying to read him, trying to work out what exactly he wanted to tell her and, being a true Slytherin, he continued to let her puzzle over his news. He did enjoy a good game and so did his mother. They both knew that he would eventually indulge her with the truth, but for now, he wanted to let her guess.

“A promotion at work?” his mother posed the question with a slight frown as she tapped her fingers gently against the fine porcelain of her teacup.

Draco shook his head and reached for another sweet cake. This one was a fluffy sponge cake wrapped in white chocolate with an almond and a glaze of dark chocolate on top.

“Hm, I thought not,” his mother mused, then added, “you’d have told me straight up.”

Draco watched her sit forward. She gently placed her cup down on top of its matching saucer, then she reached for a cucumber sandwich and taking a small bite, she chewed thoughtfully and fixed her blue eyes on him.

“You’re moving back in with your beloved mother.”

Draco did not react. Instead, he quietly sipped on his cappuccino.

 _Nice try, mother, nice try_ , he mused to himself.

He was a little bit worried about how his mother might react to the news he had for her but he wanted her to know, wanted her to feel included. He didn’t want to keep his current relationship a secret from her and despite his slight apprehension over telling her, he was convinced she wouldn’t begrudge him his happiness.

She was the only family he still had and she had always tried her best to protect him, somehow and in some way. She hadn’t always made the best choices but no parent ever did. Ever since the end of the war, she was certainly trying her best to compensate. He had repeatedly told her that there was no need but it was practically impossible to change her mind once she had made it up.

“You’re seeing someone.”

His mother sounded confident and very sure of herself. Draco smiled into his cappuccino.

Of course, she would guess correctly.

She had just been playing with him to humour him. She did that a lot, though never in a mocking or hurtful way but always in a loving and affectionate way.

He truly appreciated her dry wit and sarcasm.

She delivered it with such finesse and grace that it often took his breath away.

It also reminded him of Harry, who miraculously possessed the same type of artistic flair, especially when he was feeling devious…

Draco resolutely pushed any thoughts of Harry talking him into letting him ravish him to the back of his mind, lowered his coffee cup and inclined his head.

“Yes,” he replied.

His mother’s smile increased tenfold.

“Who is he?” she asked, clapping her hands lightly together.

There was a childish curiosity in her eyes that made Draco want to laugh and the fact that she had used the correct pronoun still astounded him. It also made him want to get up and throw his arms around his mother. He wanted to wrap her into a tight embrace and never let her go again but he resisted the temptation.

There would be time for that later.

When he had first come clean to her about his sexuality, he had firmly believed that she was merely humouring him and still expected that he would eventually settle down with a beautiful pureblood witch and gift her with an heir to the Malfoy line.

A year down the line, on a holiday to the South of France, he had finally plucked up the courage to ask her about the true nature of her feelings about his preference of the male gender.

She had outright told him that she had always known that he was different, had sensed that he would never be happy married to a woman. He had asked her why she had never said anything but she had merely told him that it hadn’t been her place to force his hand, that it was entirely his decision when he came out and whom he told.

Her calm acceptance and modern views had shocked him to the core; it was too stark a contrast to how his father had reacted.

Lucius Malfoy had straight out denounced him as his son. He had cursed him to burn in hell and demanded that he renounce the Malfoy family name.

Draco had pleaded and begged for his father’s understanding. He had even promised that he would try to get his father’s sentence reduced once he passed his bar exam but his father had merely told him that he would rather rod in a dark cell under the watchful eye of the Dementors than be associated with the abomination he thought Draco was.

Those words had cut him like a knife, had stung him like a slap in the face and broken his heart. It had taken him months to get over his father’s blatant rejection of him.

That had been part of the reason he had so firmly believed that his mother’s complete acceptance of who he was, who he wanted to be and how he wanted to live his life had merely been an act. A graceful attempt to lure him with sugar instead of caning him with her disgust.

“Draco?”

His mother’s gentle voice cut through his thoughts and pulled him out of his reverie. He set his coffee mug down and absent-mindedly reached for a small cheese puff pastry which he stuffed into his mouth.

“Regardless of who he is, you will always be my son, I hope you know that,” she reminded.

Draco chewed on his puff pastry and smiled, then swallowed slowly and cleared his throat.

“Even if he’s Harry Potter?” he asked, deciding to jump right in and not mince his words in any way.

His mother regarded him with a certain level of scrutiny. Her gaze was fixed and unwavering but her thoughts veiled. Draco held his breath and waited for the inevitable explosion, waited for her to react just like his father had done the last time he had seen him.

Surely, his confession that he was now dating Harry Potter was the last straw for her.

Surely, she wouldn’t be able to accept _that_.

He boldly held his mother’s steady intent look, although everything inside of him screamed for him to get up and run before she drew her wand and cast an Unforgivable on him.

His mother’s face was completely devoid of any kind of expression and although it was neither cold nor cruel, it still terrified Draco. It made him want to recoil, made him want to escape back to the safety of his Muggle flat in Notting Hill.

Finally, his mother relented and picking up her teacup, she took a careful sip.

“Do you love him?” she wanted to know.

Her voice was still completely neutral. Just like her eyes, it didn’t give anything away but Draco found himself nodding nonetheless.

“Yes, mother. Yes, I’m in love with Harry Potter and he is in love with me,” Draco said quietly.

He clasped his hands together he rested them in his lap. They were shaking badly and try as he might, he couldn’t quite stop them from doing so.

Remembering Harry’s preferred way to calm him, he circled the pulse point of his right hand with his left thumb but the gesture did not have the same effect on him as when Harry did it.

In fact, it had no effect on him at all and Draco sighed softly. What was it about Harry that changed things? What technique did he use that made all the difference? Draco had asked himself that question many times but, so far, he hadn’t been able to find an answer.

“Mother, please, if you disapprove, if you’re angry, just tell me so, I can take it. If you want me gone, I’ll leave. But, please, don’t just sit there like that with that cool mask of indifference on your face.”

At hearing his plea, his mother relaxed and a moment later a strange little smile made her lips curl upward. It was a tiny smile at first, but it grew steadily and suddenly Draco didn’t know what terrified him more; his mother’s deadpan expression or her smile. When he noticed a twinkle of mirth in her eyes, he pursed his lips and fixed her with an icy death glare.

“Mother!” he exclaimed warningly.

His mother chuckled but caught herself almost immediately.  
  
“Draco, I am not angry and I don’t want you gone. You are my son, my own flesh and blood. I will _never_ want you gone. I am merely trying to work out if you’re having me on or if you’re telling the truth.”

“And to what conclusion have you come?”

“You’re telling the truth. Nobody is that good a liar, especially not you. You might be in court but those people don’t know you as I do. When you want to, you are excellent at masking your emotions but your eyes, they say it all. They always have. Your eyes are your Achilles’ Heel, they give away what you really want. You’re much like your father in that regard, except you’re so much stronger than he ever was…or ever will be,” his mother said.

Setting her teacup down, she rose to her feet and moved to stand beside his chair. She held out both her hands and Draco did not hesitate to take them.

He got to his feet and when his mother drew him into a hug, he all but melted against her. He wrapped his arms so tightly around her that she yelped and gently reminded him that she wasn’t the youngest anymore. Draco entirely ignored her protests and squeezed her tighter but pulled away a moment later and cupping her face, he kissed first her left cheek and then her right.

He noted the light pink flush that now graced her mother’s cheeks and smiled.

“It’s been a while since a dashing young gentleman tried to sweep me off my feet.”

She giggled and Draco smiled, then offered her his arm, which she gratefully accepted.

“This dashing young gentleman would like to take you for a walk around the grounds, it’s been a while since we’ve done that,” he said.

They quietly exited the Manor’s grand winter garden through the open glass doors and strolled around the impressive grounds that surrounded the Manor. They walked in silence, enjoying the warm afternoon sun and the light breeze blowing through the trees.

When they reached the lake, Draco behaved quite unexpectedly. He placed his hands on his mother’s hips and lifting her up he swept her off his feet and repeatedly spun her in a circle. She yelped and protested and demanded that he put her down this instant, but Draco ignored her objections.

Eventually, her protests died down and she threw her head back and laughed without the slightest inhibition.

When Draco finally set her down again, they were both dizzy and his mother’s long curls was a complete mess. She laughed, straightened it out, then fixed her skirts and smiled at Draco. She reached out, cupped his left cheek, and stroked it with her thumb.

“Love suits you, my darling,” she smiled, “but if you do this to me again, I may just have to resort to some sort of punishment.”

“You deserve a slice of my happiness,” Draco shrugged.

He grinned like a Cheshire cat.

His worries had been entirely unfounded, his mother was perfectly all right with him dating Harry Potter and apparently also wholly approved of the fact that he was head over heels in love with _The Saviour_ , or Director Potter as people referred to him these days.

As they continued their stroll around the lake, Narcissa wanted to know absolutely everything.

Draco patiently answered question after question and by the time the house elves served them supper, Draco had given her a complete recount, starting with how he and Harry had met, how they had developed a natural friendship and how their flirtations had ended in a date and then another and another and another.

The only thing Draco didn’t share was the details about his and Harry’s sex life; his mother really didn’t need to know about Harry’s bossy streak and how easily Draco succumbed to Harry’s domineering attitude.

* * *

* * *

Climbing onto Harry’s lap, Draco straddled his thighs, sat back and bit into a big juicy strawberry. Harry lowered the file folder in his hands and Draco offered him the other half of the strawberry.

“I told my mother about you today,” Draco said.

Harry chewed on the fresh piece of fruit and raised a curious eyebrow at him.

“You did?” he asked.

He swallowed the strawberry down and Draco watched him put the file folder away. He squirmed a little when Harry’s hands wound around his waist and pulled him closer, forcing him into a kneeling position that made him nearly a head taller than Harry.

“What did she say?”

Harry’s hands found their way underneath his t-shirt and pushed it up and Draco squirmed some more. Harry caressed his back and ran his fingertips up and down his spine.

Draco arched away from the touch, then pushed right back into it.

“She wholly approves of me being in love,” he breathed.

Harry pushed his shirt further up and raising his arms, Draco allowed him to skilfully pull it over his head, then moaned when Harry kissed his nipple.

Resting his arms on Harry’s shoulders, he rocked his hips gently and shuddered when Harry bit his nipple, gently at first, then with a little more intensity. The pain made him hiss and as he ground his hips down, he tightened his hold on Harry, who did the same. Harry soothed his abused nipple with the hot wetness that was his tongue. Tiny licks and insistent kisses were all it took and Draco moaned as the pleasure mixed with the lingering pain and clouded his senses.

“I also wholly approve of you being in love,” Harry murmured against his chest.

His hot breath made Draco shiver. Harry’s hands cupped his arse cheeks and squeezed.

“You being in love is sexy,” Harry continued talking.

He kissed along his chest, then bit Draco’s other nipple.

Draco groaned and trembled.

This time, Harry had bitten him a lot harder. A wave of sharp pain flooded his brain and made his head spin but almost instantly mixed with unadulterated pleasure. Harry’s tongue drew tiny circles around his nipple, then bit again.

Draco was vaguely aware that he was making a rather strange sound and his fingers curled into Harry’s hair as his brain tried to process both the pain Harry had caused and the pleasure he was giving.

A moment later, Draco found himself flat on his back as Harry had flipped him around and moved on top of him. He was holding him down with his body weight and Draco felt oddly comfortable in that position, pinned to the bed with Harry keeping him in place, looking down at him.

Harry captured his lips in a fiery kiss that left him breathless, left him yearning for more, left him with an intense unquenchable craving for Harry to take him, claim him, make him his.

“Do you know what I also approve of, my little prince? I approve of me being in love with you,” Harry whispered against his cheek.

Draco shuddered both at the words and the nickname Harry insisted on using.

He had been so offended when Harry had used it for the first time, but it had quickly grown on him. He wasn’t quite sure what it was, couldn’t really put his finger on it, but every time Harry called him his _little prince_ , he said it with so much affection that Draco wanted to melt, wanted Harry to do unspeakable things to him.

“I approve of that too,” Draco murmured.

His own voice was shaky and his vision just a little blurred.

He wasn’t sure whether that was because of what Harry was saying or doing and didn’t care to try and work it out.

Instead, he sank into the feeling completely and moaned when Harry teased his earlobe, then bit it hard, soothed it, then sucked on the side of his neck and purposefully left a mark, and finally bit him again. Draco tilted his neck, shuddered, and groaned. The combination of pain and pleasure was making thinking rather difficult. All he wanted to do was to enjoy.

“Mine,” Harry growled into his ear.

He thrust his hips forward to make his point.

“Yours,” Draco found himself replying and when Harry pulled away slightly, Draco felt dizzy and out of sorts.

“How do you do this? Do you use hypnosis or something? How do you make me feel so good?” he questioned.

Harry chuckled.  
  
“You want me to make you feel good. You let me make you feel good. It feels good, it really is that simple. And no, I’m not using hypnosis. I’m afraid I don’t have that kind of skill.” 

“You have some sort of power over me.”

“Hm, yes, I do. The power you let me have over you. Not an inch more and not an inch less.”

Harry smiled and captured his lips in a toe-curling, butt-clenching, head-spinning kiss.

When he pulled away, several years later, or maybe just a few minutes, Draco wasn’t entirely sure, he was panting hard. When Harry told him to spread his legs further, he didn’t even hesitate.

Harry slipped in-between his legs and their still-clothed erections lined up perfectly.

Draco groaned.

“Please,” he whimpered.

The faint plea fell from his lips just as Harry started to rock his hips, thrust against him, and then rolled his hips.

“Please _what_ , my love?” Harry asked, looking at him and Draco bit his bottom lip.

He could feel himself flush; his cheeks were practically burning.

“What do you want?”

Draco’s mind was already reeling but Harry’s questions were sending it spinning right out of control and he found himself blushing like a school girl as he thought of an almost endless list of things he wanted.

“Don’t— Don’t make me ask for it,” Draco pleaded.

Harry chuckled softly, then pressed a kiss against his lips and rolled his hips again.

“Just me and you, Draco, you can tell me anything, you can ask for anything, anything at all,” Harry reassured him

Draco blinked several times and tried to focus on Harry’s face.

“I want—” he murmured, then stopped.

“Yes? What do you want?”

Draco’s mind was still spinning. He wanted so many things. He wanted Harry to tie him up, he wanted Harry to suck him, rim him, fuck him, he wanted Harry to make him beg for it. He wanted Harry to twist his mind and send him over the edge, wanted Harry to turn him into a moaning quivering pile of goo.

“Spank me,” Draco breathed.

When he realised what he’d asked for, he flushed crimson.

He hadn’t even realised that this had been on his mind until the words had left his mouth.

But now that he had said it, he couldn’t deny that he absolutely wanted it, craved it, desired it with such a ferocity that he couldn’t think straight. Not until Harry gave him exactly what he wanted, needed.

 _Please, please, please, please,_ he thought and prayed that Harry wouldn’t deny him.

 _He never denied you before_ , his mind appeased him and Draco allowed himself to relax a little.

* * *

* * *

_Fucking hell, you did not just ask me to do_ that _to you_ , Harry thought.

His mind was reeling and it threatened to spin right out of control.

He suppressed a low growl and fixed his eyes on Draco.

_Out of all the things you could have asked me for, you ask me for this? Do you have any idea what you do to my sanity, little prince?_

Harry wrangled with himself and realising that he needed to react, lest Draco freaked out, he leant in and captured Draco’s lips in a tender kiss.

“Are you absolutely sure that this is what you want, my love?” he asked, his voice low and quiet.

The rational part of him tried to tell him that he should put a stop to this, that he should end this before things got out of hand. He needed to talk to Draco and he had to put his cards on the table before they did this…did anything.

He was about to do exactly that when Draco raised his arms over his head and curled his fingers around the headboard.

“Please,” he breathed.

It was then that another part of Harry’s brain took over, one that reasoned that he couldn’t possibly deny Draco what he had asked for, not when he acted like this and surrendered so completely and without the slightest bit of restraint.

 _He asked out of his own volition_ , the darker part of his mind whispered to him, _he just begged you for it too_. _He wants this, give it to him._

Moving off Draco, Harry moved into a kneeling position.

“Roll on your front for me, get on your hands and knees,” he instructed.

A shudder surged through Draco and Harry licked his lips.

He watched as Draco slowly complied with his request. His fingers uncurled from around the iron-wrought headboard and he first rolled onto his front, then gracefully moved onto his hands and knees. Harry ran his fingers through Draco’s hair, stroked down his spine and pausing at Draco’s lower back, he splayed his fingers across the warm skin beneath his hand, covering Draco’s tailbone.

“Last chance to tell me you don’t want this,” he said.

He wanted to give Draco one last opportunity to back out, but Draco remained silent, didn’t say a word, didn’t even whimper.

“So eager,” Harry praised.

He moved behind Draco, settled between his spread legs, and pulled Draco’s boxer briefs down to his mid-thigh, then ran both his hands over Draco’s firm buttocks. He squeezed them and spread them slightly apart.

Harry let his thumb slip into the crack, muttered a cleaning and protection spell, then gently rubbed against Draco’s hole and leaning forward he peppered Draco’s lower back with a ton of tiny kisses.

Draco mewled and pushed into the touch. Harry squeezed his buttocks firmly, massaged them with his hands and as he continued to cover Draco’s back in kisses, he remembered the first time he’d done this. The first time he’d spanked Draco. It had been a game then, they’d been fooling around and Draco had been sassy, dared him to do it even.

And he had, he’d done it. Draco had liked it too. They’d, of course, talked about it later and Harry couldn’t help but wonder whether Draco had unconsciously been thinking about that one time. Draco had most definitely enjoyed himself back then and Harry was quite desperate to work out what had driven Draco to randomly ask for a spanking tonight but he also wanted to give him what he wanted. He wanted to make this good for Draco, wanted him to crave it more and often.

He summoned a bottle of lube, which flew straight into his outstretched hand, and opening it up, Harry spread some on his hand, coating his fingers with it. He deliberately took his time to further tease Draco, to increase his anticipation, then gently bit into his shoulder and pressed his mouth to Draco’s ear when he groaned and shook underneath him.

“Ready, my love?” he whispered.

Draco didn’t respond immediately but after several moments of silence, he answered with a very shaky _yes_.

“Very well,” Harry said, “but remember, if you can’t take it, all you have to say is _stop_ , do you understand? Tell me you understand.”

“I understand,” Draco breathed.

Harry nodded to himself. He placed one last kiss on Draco’s shoulder then pulled away.

He ran his unlubed hand over Draco’s buttocks, teasing, squeezing, massaging them, then pulled them apart and just when Draco expected the first blow, he pushed a lubed finger inside him, pushed it in all the way and wriggled it around until he found Draco’s prostate. The burn of his sudden intrusion fused with the pleasure of having his prostate caressed made Draco shudder, shake and tremble.

“Fold your arms, it’s easier,” Harry said.

The slight change in position resulted in Draco’s arse being higher up in the air than before and withdrawing his finger slightly, Harry thrust it inside again and teased Draco’s prostate, drawing a long, seemingly never-ending moan from Draco’s lips. He teased Draco for a while longer, then pulled his finger out and raising his hand he brought it down on Draco’s buttock, delivering the first blow.

Draco groaned and Harry could tell that he was trying to muffle a scream by biting into his own arm.

“Fuck,” Draco breathed hard.

As he trembled from the aftershock of the blow, Harry caressed the red imprint of his hand and let his fingers ghost over it. He then traced the outline of it with feather-light kisses. Draco moaned and shuddered and firmly grabbing Draco’s reddened buttock, Harry squeezed.

Draco groaned and Harry slipped his finger inside Draco and finger-fucked him. Slowly at first, then he gradually increased the speed, making sure to tease Draco’s prostate as often as possible.

Draco whimpered.

“Please, Harry.”

“Please _what_ , Draco?”

“More,” Draco breathed shakily.

Harry’s entire body shook at the impact the words had on him.

Draco had asked him for a spanking and not only that, but he was also begging for more.

 _For the love of Godric Gryffindor, we should be talking about this, not having kinky sex_ , Harry reprimanded himself but unable to stop now, he slowly withdrew his finger, teased Draco’s hole for a moment, then pulled away entirely and brought his hand down on Draco’s other buttock, marking that one with an imprint of his hand, too.

This time, Draco did not muffle his scream but let it out.

He shuddered and his folded arms threatened to give in but he bravely remained in position and Harry smacked him a third time and then a fourth. He paused, briefly, then delivered three more in rapid succession and varying degrees of strength.

Draco fell forward, buried his face in the bedsheets and the sound he made was neither a scream nor a sob. It wasn’t a moan or a cry either but it sounded so very beautiful to Harry’s ears. He caressed the fresh red-hot marks on Draco’s arse, then rewarded him with two fingers.

Harry pushed them inside Draco, firmly thrust against that sweet bundle of nerves that caused Draco unadulterated pleasure and worked him into a frenzy.

It only took a few thrusts until Draco began to push back and utter some complete gibberish; Harry could not understand.

He wanted to spank Draco some more but Draco’s incoherency held him back.

If Draco couldn’t clearly tell him _yes, continue_ or _no, stop_ then Harry wasn’t going there.

Instead, he peppered Draco’s reddened arse with kisses and continued to tease him with his fingers, repeatedly thrusting them into his lube-slickened loose hole and pulling them out again. He kissed along his spine, snug an arm around Draco’s waist and splayed his hand out over Draco’s heart.

He pulled him back, dragged him into a kneeling position and gently manoeuvred Draco onto his back.

Draco hissed at the slight but obvious discomfort of his freshly spanked arse rubbing against the cool bedsheets and looking at his face, Harry recognised the blissed-out expression on Draco’s face from several days ago.

Only this time, Harry had pushed him a little further, had driven him a bit more out of his mind.

He noted that Draco’s erection hadn’t faltered much and that his cock was still standing proudly. Harry pulled Draco’s boxers off, haphazardly tossed them aside, then took his own off. He raised Draco’s legs onto his shoulders and leaning forward he pressed his lips against Draco’s and kissed him, softly, gently, unhurriedly.

“You did so well, my love, you did so, so, so well. I’m so proud of you, so very proud of you. The way you took those seven blows, that was just beautiful, so beautiful,” he whispered against Draco’s lips, needing him to know how he felt about his submission.

He pulled away slightly and watched as Draco attempted to open his eyes. He did so with the greatest effort and when their eyes locked, a small smile, which Harry reciprocated, tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Make love to me,” Draco mumbled.

The desire in his eyes and voice was so intense that Harry froze for a moment and simply stared.

Draco had never asked him _that_ before, usually always asked him to fuck him. Sure, they made love sometimes — taking it slow was just as special as going at it with a bit more zest — but Harry never told him he wanted to make love to him and Draco never asked him. It was just something they did, entirely without announcing it.

Harry unexpectedly felt tears sting his eyes as he captured Draco’s lips in yet another kiss, overwhelmed by his feelings and swept away in the heat of the moment.

“I will. I will make love to you. I’ll make you feel so good, so very good,” he promised.

He reached for the lube, coated his erection, then aligned the tip of his throbbing cock with Draco’s loose, well-prepared hole, and slowly pushed inside. He deliberately took his time and even though it took him every ounce of self-restraint he had in him; he kept the pace slow, so agonisingly slow.

Draco’s eyes had fallen closed again and once Harry had sheathed himself completely inside of Draco, he pressed a soft kiss against Draco’s lips.

“Look at me, my sweet little prince,” he whispered, breathless.

Draco’s eyes fluttered open.

“I love you; I love you so much,” he murmured.

Draco gasped. A few tears spilt from his eyes, ran down his temples, and soaked into his hair.

Harry braced himself on one arm, brushed a stray strand of Draco’s damp hair behind his ear and kissed the tears away.

“Don’t cry my love, I’ve got you, I’ll always have you, you’re safe with me, I love you,” he whispered lovingly, moving very slowly inside of Draco, and drawing a low moan from him in the process.

He continued to rock and roll his hips and when Draco wrapped his arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss, asking him to place his arms above his head was the furthest from Harry’s mind.

Instead, he lost himself in the sensations of the kiss and ever so slowly built a steady rhythm, increased the ferocity of his thrusts and a short while later he was thrusting into Draco and pulling out of him at a fast yet gentle pace.

Tonight, there was nothing rough about the way he claimed Draco as his own.

Tonight, he just wanted to connect with Draco and connect they did, in the most intimate of ways.

As they kissed and made love Harry felt his heart melt, felt Draco turn into pliable goo beneath him and felt him shudder and tremble as he brought him closer and closer to his climax.

He felt Draco’s hand sneak between their bodies, felt him wrap it around his throbbing erection and felt Draco stroke himself in time with his thrusts. When he could feel his own orgasm approach, he broke away from yet another mind-altering kiss and pressed his mouth to Draco’s ear.

“Come for me, my love, come for me,” he whispered.

His words had the desired impact because a mere three thrusts and strokes later, Draco exploded underneath him.

“Harry—”

It was all but a breathless whisper, then Draco groaned, threw his head back and lost himself in the throes of his orgasm.

Watching Draco’s face contort so beautifully and feeling his entire body tremble and shake beneath him was enough for Harry to lose his resolve and thrusting into Draco, he buried himself deep inside him and came hard, filling Draco with his come as he groaned and rocked his hips, trying to make sure to stimulate Draco’s prostate to prolong his pleasure.

Sooner rather than later, exhaustion seeped through every square inch of him and gently pulling out of Draco, he shuffled onto the bed and pulled Draco into a tight embrace. Draco buried himself in his chest and Harry tightened his hold on him, overcome by the intense need to protect and nurture the man in his arms.

He ran his fingers through Draco’s sweat-soaked hair, held him tight, and trailing his hand up and down his back, he focused on Draco’s breathing, which was beginning to slow down.

Harry let his own eyes fall closed and briefly wondered whether he had found his soulmate but abandoned the thought when Draco slightly pulled away from him.

Forcing his eyes open, he looked at Draco and smiled.

“I love you, Harry,” Draco whispered and giggled when Harry kissed the tip of his nose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the spirit of fun (and to distract you from the fact that I’ve still not given you what you so desperately crave), I leave you with this beautiful BDSM riddle:
> 
>  
> 
> _When liquid splashes me, none seeps through._  
>  When I am moved a lot, liquid I spew.  
> When I am hit, colour I change.  
> And colour, I come in quite a range.  
> What I cover is very complex,  
> and I am very easy to flex.  
>  _  
> **What am I?**  
>  _


	20. Merlin Forgive Me, ‘Cause I Want You On Your Knees

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)
> 
> Right, so, here’s what you’ve all been urging me to post for the last (probably) two weeks — so without further ado, please enjoy.
> 
> Also, the answer to yesterday’s riddle was “skin” — _congrats_ to everyone who got that right, especially those of you who told me. Those who didn’t, I shall be sending Harry and his riding crop over for a visit to find out whether you cheated or not — he’s rather good at getting answers as you’ll discover eventually.

* * *

_Two days before his birthday, Harry finally got the opportunity —_ and found the nerve _— to try and sit Draco down for a lengthy conversation about his preferred type of relationship and his love of kink in general._

_He, of course, repeatedly thought it through in his head, even floo-called Charlie for some advice, but eventually tossed all his ideas and plans into the bin._

_Instead, he decided to tackle the matter as naturally as possible. He wanted Draco to understand and accept, not feel threatened and freaked out. A lazy morning, spent in the comfort of Draco’s Notting Hill flat, seemed like the perfect setting to somehow start that conversation, one Harry both absolutely dreaded and highly anticipated._

_Still, he didn’t want to draw things out any longer. He wanted Draco to know it all, without any exceptions._

_It was that which pushed him to make a move, to finally lay all his cards on the table because he needed Draco to understand not only what it meant to him but also that Draco shared more of his penchant for kink than he was probably presently aware — then again, that was a conversation he wasn’t going to force but if it happened as part of their talk today, he intended to be thoroughly supportive and mentor Draco through it._

* * *

* * *

Harry slipped his arms around Draco’s waist and rested them on the kitchen counter, effectively trapping Draco between it and his body. He moulded himself against Draco, placed his chin on Draco’s shoulder and kissed the side of his neck. Draco shuddered and tilted his head to the side to give Harry more and better access. Harry smirked against his warm pale skin.

“I’ve got a knife in my hand,” Draco protested weakly.

“Are you telling me to be careful or are you threatening me?” Harry murmured softly against Draco’s neck, then gently trailed his fingertips over Draco’s bare forearm, the inside of his wrist and the back of his hand.

Draco’s hand trembled underneath his light touch and Harry rather effortlessly eased the knife out of Draco’s hand and placed it on the worktop.

“There, all safe now. Doesn’t even take a disarming spell to make you surrender,” he said.

He planted a few kisses on Draco’s neck, pleased when Draco’s breathing hitched a little and he shuddered in his arms.

Draco mumbled something unintelligible and Harry watched as he pressed the balls of his hands against the worktop and flexed his fingers.

“When you’re done with that sandwich, I’ve got something to show you,” Harry said quietly and with one last kiss to Draco’s neck, he peeled himself off Draco’s back and stepped away.

Draco turned his head and the slightly dazed look in his eyes made Harry want to spin him around, press his arse against the kitchen counter and whisper unspeakable filth into his ear until Draco melted and begged him to do all those things to him.

Instead, Harry remained where he was and restrained his desire with a slow deep breath, then retreated into the living room.

He folded himself onto the sofa and reached for his glass of freshly pressed orange juice. He sipped it slowly and reaching into his backpack, which he had left beside the sofa, he pulled out a black hardcover book and let it rest in his lap.

The cover was inconspicuously enough for him to do so. The book title was in Japanese and the image underneath depicted a silver braided silk rope collar with an intricate knotting pattern and a red infinity knot integrated into it.

Several minutes later, Draco, chewing on the last bite of his sandwich, joined him on the sofa and offered him a plate with carrot, cucumber, and celery sticks.

Harry smirked and chose a large carrot stick.

“Funny how you make yourself a sandwich with strawberry preserve, then offer me tasteless vegetable sticks,” he laughed and bit off half of the carrot stick.

Draco winked.

“They might be tasteless, but they’re healthy.”

“Are you insinuating that I’m getting fat?”

Harry frowned, though the twinkle in his eyes gave his amusement away. He felt the urge to mock Draco’s love for all things sweet but decided not to go there, not right now anyway.

“Not at all, Director Potter, I would never dare to be this insolent.”

“Good, otherwise I may have to drag you across my knees, hold you down, pull those joggers off your arse, and spank your insolence right out of you,” Harry grinned.

He watched Draco’s eyes darken a little and nonchalantly shoved the rest of the carrot stick into his mouth. He chewed on it thoughtfully and without breaking eye contact. In response, Draco swallowed hard. Harry had no doubt about what was presently occupying his mind.

“Didn’t you say you had something to show me?” Draco eventually asked, his voice low and croaky as he changed the topic. It was obvious that doing so required great deal of effort on his part.

Harry nodded and shuffling on the sofa, he moved further into the corner where the two parts of the sofa met. He wedged the book between the backrest of the sofa and his thigh, then issued a soft-spoken invitation, he knew Draco wouldn’t be able to resist.

“Come, sit here, between my legs.”

Draco set the plate of vegetable sticks down on the coffee table, and seductively crawled over to him. It took Harry every ounce of willpower not to tell Draco to stay exactly like that, on his hands and knees. The sight of him crawling drove him wanton.

Instead, he appreciated in silence and when Draco got comfortable, he sneaked his arms around Draco’s waist and pulled him close. Draco relaxed into his embrace, leant back against his chest, and rested his head on his shoulder. When he turned his head sideways, Harry cupped his chin and captured his lips in a gentle kiss, which Draco melted into and Harry didn’t break for the longest time.

Eventually, he did pull away, teased his thumb over Draco’s reddened lips and reached for the book, slipping it into his hands.

Draco’s attention immediately turned to it and taking the into both hands, he stared at the cover, ran his fingers over the impressive collar, then opened it.

Without seeing Draco’s face, Harry still knew that he was frowning.

“It’s in Japanese, I didn’t give it to you to read, I gave it to you for the photographs. Keep leafing,” he encouraged and Draco did.

Meanwhile, Harry massaged Draco’s shoulders.

When Draco reached the first photograph — an artistic black and white Muggle photo of a kneeling naked male, with his hands tightly bound behind his back and his head lowered submissively — Harry heard him gasp lightly and interrupting his massage, he ran his hands along Draco’s arms and allowed his fingertips to ghost over Draco’s bare forearms. He absentmindedly drew a knotting pattern and watched as Draco trailed a single fingertip over the ropes that bound the photographed submissive.

After a while, Draco turned the page.

The next photograph depicted a kneeling woman with very short blond hair. She had her legs spread wide and she had her back turned to the camera. A beautiful red rope wound itself tightly around her torso and her neck before it disappeared between the crack of her buttocks.

The knotting pattern was complex and beautiful and Draco’s eyes lingered on the photograph, then flicked to the next photograph which portrayed a Japanese woman with long purple and blue hair, suspended in the air with a rope which had been tightly fastened around her right ankle. A second rope repeatedly wound around her breasts and helped to hold her suspended in mid-air. With her arms restrained behind her back, she looked completely at ease and was staring off into space with a tiny smile ghosting around her lips.

The next photograph showed a male model, sprawled out on the floor, head tilted upwards, mouth slightly open, eyes focused at the camera. His left ankle was bound to his right thigh and raised slightly above ground, obscuring a direct view at his crotch. His arms rested behind his back, secured by beautiful back ropes and Draco stared at the photograph for the longest time before he continued to leaf through the book, slowly turning page after page.

With each page that Draco turned and each photograph that his eyes lingered over, Harry’s respect and admiration for him grew and grew until he could no longer restrain himself. Hugging Draco close, he pressed a kiss against his clothed back.

“Do you like these?” he asked and held his breath as he patiently waited for Draco’s answer.

“Yes,” came the breathless response only a short moment later.

Harry felt Draco take his hand and guide it to his groin, where he placed it above his erection.

“I really like these,” Draco admitted.

Harry squeezed his cock through the loose joggers, then rubbed his palm over it until a low moan escaped Draco’s lips and he trembled slightly.

“Do _you_ like these, Harry?” Draco wanted to know, his voice shaky and rough.

“Yes, I like it very much. I love rope bondage, especially this style. It’s so beautiful, so erotic,” Harry answered truthfully and without hesitation.

He continued to let hand rest above Draco’s very prominent arousal, and wrapped his other hand tightly around Draco’s waist, pulling him flush against his chest.

“You would look so beautiful bound like this, Draco,” he murmured against the sensitive skin on Draco’s neck. “Your beautiful pale skin, hm, I wouldn’t put any red ropes on you, I know how you feel about Gryffin—”

“Red ropes would be fine,” Draco whispered breathlessly.

Harry felt him tremble in his arms. He wasn’t quite sure if it was from the excitement of what they were talking about, anticipation or fear.

“Hm, all right, red ropes I shall use then. Although, on second thought, black ropes would look so much better on you, the contrast between them and your light skin, just beautiful.”

“Harry?”

“Yes?”

“Do you want to tie me up like this?”

“Do you want me to?”

Harry answered Draco’s question with a question of his own but kept his voice low. He let his breath ghost over Draco’s neck as he spoke.

Draco hesitated for a while before he responded and his uncertainty was obvious in his voice.

“I don’t know, it doesn’t look particularly comfortable, especially if you’re planning to suspend me.”

Harry chuckled softly. He couldn’t help but note that Draco hadn’t completely rejected the idea of being bound tightly with ropes; he was just unsure about the execution of it. He, therefore, decided to help Draco along and began to paint a picture in Draco’s mind, hoping he’d be able to visualise.

“I wouldn’t suspend you on the first try, my love. Suspension, that is advanced stuff. If you really wanted me to do this, I would— Hm, let me think _—_ Maybe _—_ Yes. I would slowly move your hands behind your back and tie your wrists together with a complicated but beautiful knot. Then, I would make you lie down which would be a little uncomfortable and awkward because you have your hands bound behind your back but you’d be fine. I would tie your left ankle to your right thigh and kiss every inch of you before I’d turn you over and continue to kiss every inch of your skin. I’d leave you bound like this while I admire my handiwork and tell you how beautiful you look and how much you excite me. I would slowly fuck you for hours and hours until you beg me to let you come, until you whimper and sob and breathlessly whisper _Sir, please let me come, I need to come, I need to come so bad_.”

Harry’s teasing words drew a low moan from Draco’s lips and he slowly pushed the book aside.

Then, and not without some difficulty, he shuffled in Harry’s embrace, kneeled between his legs, and sat back on his haunches.

When he looked at Harry his eyes were dark and his face flushed, though not with embarrassment but with definite arousal. His mouth hung open slightly and he placed his trembling hands on Harry’s thighs. Harry rested his own hands above them and squeezed gently.

“What else do you want to do to me?” Draco asked and Harry could tell that it required a bit of effort for him to try and stay focused.

He squeezed Draco’s hands a little more insistently and it seemed to help Draco to focus as the fog in his eyes cleared away just a little.

“I don’t want to do anything to you, that you don’t want me to do,” he said earnestly. “I would never want to do anything to you that you are not comfortable with or that you don’t want to happen. I wouldn’t get any pleasure out of knowing that you’re not enjoying what I’m doing to you,” he explained further.

Falling silent, he moved his hands to Draco’s wrists, wrapped his fingers around them and squeezed tighter than he had ever before. Draco made a small sound of discomfort, tensed, and struggled a little. Harry was about to loosen his grip when Draco shook his head and Harry watched him take a calming breath, then relax gradually.

“Is this your way of telling me that— that— that you don’t just enjoy a bit of bondage and kinky sex but—” he paused and frowned.

Harry remained silent and allowed him to come to his own conclusion. It didn’t take long; Draco was too sharp and perceptive for that.

“You really enjoy it when I let you take control, don’t you? You get off on me submitting to you.”

Harry nodded.

“Yes, I like it. I like it very much; it is who I am. But I only like it when you submit because you want to. I wouldn’t enjoy it if you didn’t want me to take control. You do though, you’ve shown me plenty of times. You like it when I take control, don’t you, Draco?”

Harry paused to let the question sink in. He released Draco’s wrists and laced their fingers together instead, then pulled Draco in for a slow, mind-twisting kiss.

Draco pulled his hands away and wrapped them around Harry’s neck while Harry let his own hands to travel down Draco’s back.

His nimble fingers found their way underneath Draco’s shirt and he caressed the soft warm skin of Draco’s lower back, slowly slipped his hands underneath the waistband of Draco’s joggers, and squeezed his buttocks, massaging them with his hands.

When he broke away from the kiss, Draco looked a bit dazed but not dazed enough that Harry thought he wouldn’t be able to continue following the conversation.

“You submit so beautifully, Draco, I love how you melt at my touch, how you follow my voice and obey the simplest of commands, whether they are spoken or implied. It really turns me on to see you sprawled out beneath me, hands above your head, looking at me with big, black wanton eyes, quietly pleading with me to push you over the edge,” Harry whispered.

Draco mewled in response and buried his face in the crook of Harry’s neck, then actually bit him as he let out a low moan that tickled Harry’s skin. Harry growled and pinched Draco’s arse hard enough to make Draco yelp and look at him with big wide eyes.

“I do the biting,” Harry winked.

Draco licked his lips, swallowed hard and stared at Harry for the longest time, then flushed crimson and lowered his eyes in embarrassment.

“What’s got you flustered all of a sudden?” Harry asked softly, withdrew his hand from inside Draco’s joggers and placing two fingers underneath his chin, he gently urged Draco to look at him which he eventually did but only with the greatest reluctance.

“Tell me, my love, tell me what’s on your mind, I’d like to know— If you’re willing to share, that is.”

Draco remained silent and it was obvious to Harry that he was fighting a battle with himself, a battle over whether to reveal his innermost thoughts or keep them to himself after all.

While Draco made his decision, Harry waited patiently, didn’t push, or otherwise pressure him.

Eventually, Draco’s desire to share seemingly won and he made a confession that neither surprised nor shocked Harry.

“You know, Harry, I’ve always had a strong preference to bottom, but no one ever made me feel the way you do. No one ever made me react the way you do. No one ever made me want to give it all up. You literally have the power to drive me crazy with a simple touch, a mere glance, or a single word and that’s more than a little scary. That’s all it takes for me to want to yield to you, to bend to your will. You make me want things I’ve never wanted before, or never knew I wanted. It’s—,” Draco paused and sighed softly. “It’s a bit of a mind-fuck,” he admitted with a low rumbling chuckle and Harry smiled.

“It can be when you’re first trying to work it out. The descriptive term you’re looking for, it’s called _being submissive_ ,” he offered a simple explanation to a complex topic. “Or for short, _being a sub_. Some people enjoy submitting completely and in every aspect of their lives. You, however, are not one of those people,” Harry paused momentarily and threading both his hands through Draco’s hair, he pulled him close and kissed his forehead.

“You, my love, and this is my interpretation of you, so feel free to object at any point, you enjoy giving me control, you enjoy surrendering to me and letting me please you. You are also rather good at following orders, even those given subtly, rather than spoken outright. You do not have a very high tolerance for pain, though you enjoy a little of it here and there.”

When Harry fell silent, Draco shuffled into a slightly more comfortable position and moved to sit with his back against the sofa’s backrest. He pulled Harry’s leg over his thighs and Harry let him. He also let Draco take his hand, lace their fingers together and allowed him to aimlessly toy with the leather strap of his watch, gently picking at it but not opening it.

“That would make you dominant,” Draco smiled. “It’s not bossy for short, is it?” he asked and Harry chuckled and shook his head.

“No, bossy isn’t the short form of dominant, not the officially accepted short form anyway. That would be Dom. I identify as a Dom,” he explained.

“You are dominant, there’s absolutely no doubt about that. You enjoy being in control, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Always? Do you always want to be in control?” Draco asked.

He left the strap of Harry’s watch alone and ran his hand up and down the inside of Harry’s calf and eventually slipped it underneath the loose fabric of his trousers. There he alternated between gently scraping his fingernails against Harry’s skin and trailing his fingers over and through the coarse hairs growing on Harry’s leg.

“Yes. I would prefer being in control most of the time. What I want, however, entirely depends on what you are comfortable with,” Harry answered Draco’s question. “If I wanted you naked and kneeling at my feet, with your head lowered and silent unless directly addressed but you didn’t want that then it wouldn’t happen. Simple as.”

“Do you want that? Do you want me naked and kneeling at your feet with my head lowered, waiting for you to allow me to speak?” Draco asked.

Harry took a moment to consider his answer.

“I’d be lying if I told you that I don’t find that idea extremely alluring,” he said, then paused to squeeze Draco’s hand. “However, I can’t see myself forbidding you to speak completely. I wouldn’t enjoy that, I like the sound of your voice, you’ve got a very sexy voice.”

“Do I?”

Draco grinned mischievously.

“Yes, you do. Now stop teasing my leg, it tickles.”

“What if I don’t want to?” Draco retorted with a cheeky glint in his eyes.

“It’s called respect, Draco. Respect and boundaries. If you expect me to stop when you don’t like something, you also need to stop doing something when I don’t like it,” Harry said. His voice was soft but with a firm undertone.

Draco’s face fell. He slowly withdrew his hand from inside Harry’s trouser leg and looked a bit crestfallen.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

Harry instinctively shuffled and moved closer to Draco.

“Hey, no, listen to me. Wrong choice of words, I didn’t mean to say that I didn’t like it and I don’t forbid you to touch me like that. I just asked you to stop because it tickles, that’s all. There’s a difference, do you understand that? You can touch me whenever and however you like. If I don’t like it or I don’t want you to touch me in a certain way I will tell you and I would expect you to accept my boundaries, just like I will always accept yours.”

It took a moment before Draco nodded.

Harry leant in to plant a gentle kiss on his lips, then pulled him into his arms and wrapped his arms and legs around Draco’s shoulders and waist respectively. Draco instantly relaxed into the embrace and Harry kissed the top of his head.

“I like touching you so much, my little prince,” he whispered. “I like it when you touch me too. Your skin is divine, your touch exquisite, your mouth delectable. Every part of you is utterly perfect.”

“ _Charmer_. Where did you learn to talk like that? You were a tongue-tied fool back at Hogwarts.”

“That was ten years ago, people change,” Harry laughed. “You were an aloof, ostentatious, pathetic little bully. Now you are a smart, sexy, sassy, confident prosecutor, with a deep love for all things sweet, a newly-discovered penchant for kinky sex, and an extremely handsome boyfriend.”

“Don’t think much of yourself, do you, _Director Potter_?” Draco laughed and resting his head back against Harry’s shoulder, he twisted his head and looked up at him.

“If you’re going to use a title, I prefer _Sir_ ,” Harry said with a wink.

“Sir Harry? Harry, Sir? Sir Harry Potter?” Draco teased.

Harry rolled his eyes.

“Just _Sir_ will do, thank you very much.”

“Hm, is that what you want me to call you? _Sir_?”

Harry tried not to let on how much Draco’s use of the word turned him on, but he was struggling. His cock twitched and his eyes darkened a little and even though he knew that Draco was only mocking him, he couldn’t ignore the effects it had on him.

“This turns you on, doesn’t it? Me calling you _Sir_ ,” Draco asked before Harry had the chance to tell him that he wasn’t going to demand for Draco to use that title and that _Harry_ or _Potter_ was perfectly acceptable.

Harry nodded.

“It does, especially when I’ve got my arms and legs wrapped around you like this and you can’t get away. You’re mine.”

“How much would it turn you on if I was to kneel at your feet and call you _Sir_?” Draco asked boldly and Harry smiled.

“Why don’t you try and find out for yourself?”

Harry raised a suggestive eyebrow at Draco, then loosened his hold, leaving Draco with the choice to either stay where he was or move to kneel on the floor.

“Do you want me to kneel on the floor for you?” Draco asked.

His voice barely a whisper and Harry watched as he swallowed hard. He pressed a reassuring kiss to Draco’s cheek, smiled, caressed his arm, and laced their fingers together, toying with them.

“Yes. I want you to kneel on the floor for me, my little prince,” he murmured into Draco’s ear. “ _But_ only if you want to, if you aren’t comfortable with that, stay right here in my arms, I won’t judge you and I won’t be disappointed either.”

“You won’t?” Draco questioned.

“I won’t be disappointed, it’s entirely up to you, Draco. I will never make you do something you don’t want to do,” he said softly and after a long pause and some hesitation, Draco shuffled in his arms.

“I want to try, I want to kneel for you, I want to know what it feels like,” he admitted quietly. A faint pink flush adorned his beautiful pale cheeks.

“Then, my little prince, kneel,” Harry whispered.

He both felt and saw the shudder that went through Draco as he shuffled and gracefully slid off the sofa and onto the floor. He moved into a kneeling position, placed his hands on his thighs and looked at the floor.

“ _Sir_.”

He spoke the word so softly that it was more of a low exhale than an actual sound.

Harry shuddered as he moved to sit forward. He placed both feet firmly on the ground and licked his lips. His cock twitched excitedly in his joggers and his mind was spinning so fast that he felt just a little dizzy. Swallowing hard, he cupped Draco’s chin and gently persuaded Draco to look at him. He was gnawing at his bottom lip and that faint flush that had graced his cheeks was now a deep shade of red as he fought against the embarrassment he so clearly felt.

Harry could tell that Draco was excited, not just physically but also mentally.

He, however, also knew that it would take some time for Draco to fully accept just how much he enjoyed his submission, or rather how much he enjoyed this type of submission.

 _If you let me, I can help you with that, my sweet darling_ , Harry thought.

“I don’t think you have any idea how beautiful you look, kneeling there at my feet. So good, so sweet, so beautiful, so stunningly beautiful,” he whispered and ran his fingers through Draco’s hair.

Draco whimpered softly and stared at him, eyes wide open, pupils blown. His laboured breathing was yet another clue and Harry leant down to capture Draco’s lips in a soft and tender kiss.

“Will you put your hands behind your back for me?” he asked softly and Draco hesitated for a moment, then complied with Harry’s request.

“Mmm, beautiful, so, so, so beautiful, just perfect, you are just perfect,” Harry said.

He gently stroked Draco’s cheek and traced Draco’s bottom lip with his thumb. When he reached the centre of Draco’s mouth, he puckered his lips and kissed his thumb.

“ _Sir_ , what would you like me to do now?” he asked and Harry’s mind whirled.

He could think of a million things he wanted Draco to do but thought it selfish of him to continue with anything. Anything that included continuing to make Draco kneel on the floor was too much too soon. This, kneeling because Harry had asked him to, was too new for him and Harry did not want to exploit Draco like that. He had only just started telling Draco exactly how much he enjoyed kink and there was still so much more to tell, so much more to talk about, to discuss.

“I’d like you to come back into my arms so I can cuddle and kiss you for being such an obedient little prince,” Harry whispered.

He watched as Draco rose to his feet without removing his arms from behind his back. Draco seated himself between Harry’s legs and they resumed their previous position with Harry wrapping his arms and legs around Draco and holding him firmly in place. Kissing was a little bit awkward in this position but they managed to make it happen and for the longest time that was all they did.

When they parted, they were both breathless and Draco had a wicked glint in his eyes.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take care of your rather prominent predicament?” he asked with a smirk and Harry locked his legs tightly around Draco’s waist.

“Later,” he whispered. “First, let me give you your reward.”

“I thought that kiss was my reward,” Draco frowned.

“Good boys like you get more than just a kiss, Draco,” Harry chuckled and slipped his hand into Draco’s joggers.

He closed his fingers around Draco’s throbbing cock, mumbled a lubrication spell and stroked Draco, setting a slow but regular rhythm. It only took a few strokes until Draco threw his head back, licked his lips and moaned.

“Fuck, yes, Harry, that’s so good, _please_ don’t stop,” he whimpered and tried to thrust into Harry’s hand, but Harry’s legs kept him firmly pinned down.

Stroking faster, Harry gripped Draco’s cock harder and pressed his mouth against Draco’s ear.

“You’ve already been so good for me, but can you be even better for me, my little prince? Can you?” he whispered.

“Yes,” Draco’s response was all but a shaky breath. His laboured breathing made it rather difficult to talk normally. “Yes, _Sir_ , yes, I can be good,” he whispered and trembled in Harry’s arms.

“Don’t come without my permission,” Harry spoke a little more firmly. “Can you do that for me, my little prince?” he asked and Draco moaned and squirmed in his arms.

“I— I can— I will try.”

“Good,” Harry smiled and let his other hand slip underneath Draco’s shirt. He pinched one of his nipples and twisted it a little. Draco groaned and arched his back. Harry increased the speed of his strokes and made sure to brush his thumb over and around the extremely sensitive head of Draco’s cock. The conjured lube, while not as great as Muggle lube, made the task easy.

Draco made an indiscernible sound that, when Harry twisted his nipple yet again, turned into a groan. Harry scraped his nail over the already abused hard nub.

“Harry, I’m so close,” Draco whimpered.

Harry slowed his strokes down to a slow and teasing caress and Draco let out a frustrated huff of air and dug his fingers into Harry’s thighs.

“You can do it, breathe through it,” Harry encouraged, giving Draco a few moments to come back from the edge.

When he had and when his breathing had slowed a little, Harry twisted Draco’s other nipple, scraped over it with his nail and then increased the speed and intensity of his strokes.

Within seconds, Draco was a trembling, squirming mess in his arms and ordinarily Harry would tell him to stop, would tell him to keep still, but this time he didn’t.

This time, he let Draco squirm, watched as Draco’s toes curled and his legs spasmed. He drove Draco right to the edge and then instead of over it, he stopped, squeezed the base of Draco’s cock, and delighted in the whimpering, sobbing mess he had managed to turn Draco into. He briefly stopped stroking Draco’s cock and using both hands, he pulled Draco’s loose joggers off and dragged them down to his midthighs.

“Harry, please, I can’t take this,” Draco moaned and Harry knew that the cool air that was now teasing and caressing Draco’s cock felt like slow torture.

“You can, my love,” Harry whispered and this time Draco nearly screamed when he closed his hand around his cock again and started to stroke him, hard, fast, unrelenting.

“You’re doing so good, my sweet one,” Harry continued to encourage.

He allowed his free hand to slip underneath Draco’s shirt, gently caressed his taut stomach, toyed with his nipples, and twisted them some more, causing delightful bursts of pain to zap through Draco. He bit into Draco’s neck, sucked the sensitive skin into his mouth and soothed the abused skin with tiny kisses and tender licks.

“Please don’t stop again, please don’t, Harry, please,” Draco pleaded.

Harry smiled against his neck.

“I won’t, you’ve been so good for me, you didn’t come without my permission, you deserve a reward. You may come now, my love, come for me, come now,” Harry murmured and his hand flew up and down Draco’s cock. He pushed him right over the edge and watched Draco fall.

He watched the way his toes repeatedly curled and uncurled, how his legs trembled and shook, and how his fingers twisted themselves into Harry’s joggers, needing something to hold on to, needing something to ground him. He felt Draco’s entire body convulse and quiver and shake, felt him arch his back and heard him groan and pant and breathlessly babble a bunch of incoherent nonsense. He watched as Draco came, hard, fast and with such intensity that he briefly forgot to breathe properly. He shot his come all over Harry’s hand and his stomach and slowing his movement, Harry stroked him through his climax, then cast a longing glance at Draco’s come on his hand but resolutely banished it with a cleaning charm.

Draco was a trembling, shaking panting wreck and needed his attention and care.

Harry tenderly held him in his arms, caressed his flushed and damp skin and kissed his neck, his cheek, his parted lips, and eventually even the palm of his hand and each fingertip.

“Ssssh, my sweet love, I’ve got you,” he whispered repeatedly and held Draco until he had calmed down somewhat.

“Do you want to go upstairs and have a nap and a cuddle?” Harry asked.

Draco, rather uncharacteristically, giggled in his arms.

“I don’t think my legs know how to walk,” he mumbled.

Harry chuckled.

Draco turned his head and his gaze was unfocused and his eyes glazed over. He had a look of pure bliss about him and Harry pressed a gentle kiss against his forehead.

“Hmm, that’s all right, I can carry you,” he said and shuffling them about, he got to his feet, then moved one arm underneath Draco’s armpits and the other one underneath his knees.

“Arms around my neck,” he instructed.

Draco giggled some more but did as good.

“Yes _Sir_.”

Harry rolled his eyes but said nothing.

Instead, he carried his giggling, babbling and very submissive boyfriend up the stairs and gently placed him on top of the bed. He covered him with a light summer blanket, then crawled onto the bed and spooned Draco from behind. Draco pushed into his embrace and mumbled something incomprehensible. Within minutes he was fast asleep and Harry held him as he slept peacefully, recovering from the intensity of their little game and his orgasm.

Harry’s own cock was still painfully hard and he desperately wanted to take care of it but decided that he could wait a little while longer. Draco looked so peaceful and it felt so good to just hold him.

Even though he had the distinct feeling that he would get many more opportunities to hold Draco, he didn’t want to miss out on this first chance.


	21. Secret Admirer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)

* * *

“Made your choice yet?” Harry asked.

Draco stopped perusing the menu and looked up.

He allowed himself a moment to drown in Harry’s vibrant green eyes, then smiled softly. He had made his choice a long time ago, five years ago to be exact.

Whenever he visited Kensington Creperie, he always chose the same, always ordered the crepe filled with conference pear wedges doused in orange blossom honey, cinnamon, vanilla bean and squeezed lemon juice. It was just the right kind of sweet, the right kind of posh, and the right kind of plain.

He had fallen in love with it the first time he had tried it and even though he often told himself to be bold, to try something new, he never did. At least not when it came to eating crepes.

Today, he briefly considered spicing things up. He considered ordering a crepe filled with chocolate sauce and banana slices dusted with powdered sugar and topped with toasted almonds.

But then his earlier conversation with Harry started wreaking havoc with his mind and he found himself craving something familiar, something he knew and liked.

He still hadn’t quite processed what Harry had revealed to him and even though it filled him with anticipation and excitement, he knew that it would take time, research, and several conversations for him to be able to properly wrap his head around it all.

It felt a bit like Harry had thrown him into the deep end of the pool, but the feeling was by no means unpleasant, just different. He truly appreciated Harry’s honesty; he could tell that laying it all on the table hadn’t been easy for him.

Their conversation had resulted in some rather steamy sex that had twisted his senses and robbed his mind of every coherent thought and he couldn’t deny that he wanted more, so much more.

Realising that he hadn’t answered Harry’s question yet, Draco resolutely pulled himself back to the present and smiled apologetically.

His mind kept wandering off ever since had woken up from his unplanned nap and he repeatedly found himself having to rein it in

“I always order the same, I have for about five years,” he admitted somewhat sheepishly.

He couldn’t help but wonder whether Harry thought him boring now. It was a nagging thought he couldn’t quite shake off and it unsettled him.

Since they’d started dating, Draco had been anything but boring.

In fact, just earlier today he discovered a completely new and different side of himself. One that was anything but boring.

Surely, Harry wouldn’t fault him for this?

“Nothing wrong with having a firm favourite. As you know, treacle tart and I are old mates,” Harry winked with a smile.

Draco’s nervousness dissipated instantly. He wasn’t sure what it was but there was something soothing about Harry’s voice, something calming about the way he smiled and his general demeanour. Somehow, Harry had the distinct ability to keep him focused; for the most part anyway.

“Care to tell me your favourite then?” Harry pushed him for an answer.

Draco frowned.

“La Crepes Pacific Palisades,” he said, realising that he had drifted again, though this time not because his mind had gone off on its own but rather because he had been too busy allowing Harry’s charm to sweep him off his feet.

It was about time that he got some food into his stomach, his brain needed fuel, quite desperately so. He was acting all sorts of stupid. He watched as Harry glanced at the menu, found the crepe in question, and gave him an approving nod. It was then that a curious thought entered Draco’s mind and unable to let it go, because really, you could never kill an idea, he boldly posed the question to Harry.

“This whole thing about taking control, does that mean you want to order for me?”

“Do you want me to choose something and order it for you?” Harry answered his question with a question of his own and Draco considered it for a moment, then firmly shook his head.

“No, I want to order my own food.”

Harry smiled.

“Then you will order what you like and I will choose my own crepe. Unless you would like to suggest something? You appear to be a regular customer.”

Draco considered Harry’s answer carefully and thought he understood.

Harry would never force him to do something he didn’t want Harry to do to him or for him. He rather liked the idea of that and reaching across the table he took Harry’s hand and squeezed it gently.

“Sweet or savoury?” he asked.

“Savoury,” Harry replied. “Sweet is your thing.”

Draco took a quick glance at the menu, then offered a suggestion, “La Crepe Alesia.”

Harry shot him an amused grin.

“Funnily enough that was the one I’d been thinking about ordering,” he said.

Draco tried to gauge whether Harry was having him on or whether he was being sincere. Harry seemingly sensed his disbelief, and squeezing his hand softy he reassured him that he had indeed been thinking about ordering that crepe but that he very much wanted to add a portion of diced chicken to it.

“They don’t mind special requests here,” Draco said.

“Do you?” Harry asked.

They briefly interrupted their conversation when a waiter approached their table to take their order. Draco attempted to withdraw his hand but felt Harry tighten his hold and forced himself to relax.

If Harry didn’t give a damn about what the waiter thought upon seeing two men holding hands across the table and sharing a meal together, neither would he. He listened as Harry placed their order and smiled goofily when Harry ordered an extra helping of the crepe filling for him as a side dish, then thanked his lucky stars when Harry not only ordered a cup of black filter coffee for himself but also a cup of caramel cappuccino for him.

Once they were alone again, Harry swiftly returned to their earlier conversation and for a moment Draco wasn’t sure whether Harry’s wicked grin scared or excited him.

After some hesitation, he settled for both options. Harry most definitely had the ability to both scare _and_ excite him.

So far, Harry had mostly excited him but Draco had a distinct feeling that if pushed too far, Harry would retaliate and that thought was a scary one indeed.

Draco shuddered inwardly.

For the time being he had no desire to find out what Harry was like when he was being scary, he preferred it when Harry was firm but teasing. It gave him a kick, more so than he’d ever thought.

“So, Draco Malfoy, tell me, do _you_ take special requests?”

Harry’s voice was low and baiting and it made Draco shiver like it almost always did.

His gaze drifted to his and Harry’s hand. Harry had let go of his hand and was now using the tip of his index finger to draw random patterns on his palm. It tickled a little but it was a pleasant sort of tickle that Draco did not what to give up. He flexed his fingers, then looked straight at Harry.

“What kind of special requests are we talking about?” Draco asked, deliberately stalling. He didn’t want to give a definite answer just yet. Somehow, he had a feeling it was going to be something that would render him speechless.

“Well, the day after tomorrow is the thirty-first of July…”

Harry smirked.

Draco chuckled.

“So, it is. And what’s that got to do with me taking special requests?”

Draco purposefully played dumb and decided that he enjoyed bantering with Harry just a little too much. It reminded him of their Hogwarts days, though this time around exchange of teasing remarks was playful and friendly. Neither one of them had the desire to hurt the other.

“Uh, I don’t know. It may just be Director Potter’s birthday. I heard through the grapevine that he’s your boyfriend… You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

Harry effortlessly joined into the game and Draco frowned intentionally.

“Ah, yes, now that you mention it, I seem to remember seeing that memo on my desk, dutifully made a note in my calendar, I was going to pick up a card tomorrow. The Ministry is going all wild over _The Saviour’s_ birthday. Wouldn’t surprise me if they declare it an official holiday before Director Potter turns 30,” he teased with a mischievous glint in his eyes and sat back a little when the waiter approached to serve them their coffees, then disappeared again. He had already purchased and wrapped Harry’s gift. It was waiting, safely stowed away at the bottom of his wardrobe, hidden underneath a powerful disillusionment charm, which was a little unnecessary since he doubted that Harry would go rooting around his wardrobe without permission but still.

“Did you now? That’s good to know. I was worried that you’d forgotten all about it.”

“I’m not senile. Not yet anyway, give me a couple more years.”

Draco laughed and took several sips of his cappuccino.

“What’s your special request?” he asked.

He had to wait for Harry to answer his question since the waiter returned with their food and taking just one look at it made Draco’s stomach growl in anticipation of finally getting some food into his starving stomach.

“I’ll tell you the day after tomorrow,” Harry winked, picked up his knife and fork and started on his crepe.

“Eat first, you need some sustenance,” he added and with a nod, Draco picked up his own cutlery.

He truly was starving. Harry’s confession and their subsequent chat and the mind-blowing hand job Harry had given him, followed by his lengthy nap meant that he’d missed lunch.

Cutting into his crepe, he brought a large bite of the delicious, warm sweet treat to his mouth, parted his lips, and slid the fork inside. As his lips closed around his favourite sweet crepe, he let out a low, almost indecent, moan and glanced at Harry who chuckled softly and winked.

“Looking at your face there, it’s hard to decide what’s better, that crepe or sex,” Harry teased.

Draco schooled his features into a very serious expression.

“This crepe after sex—,” he paused for a moment for dramatic effect, “with you, Harry.”

“You say the sweetest things.”

“You bring out the sap in me, though I’m not entirely sure yet whether I like that,” Draco said with a fond smile and as they resumed eating, they both fell silent for a while.

Draco’s thoughts strayed a little, but he didn’t allow them to settle on anything specific. He was too content in Harry’s company to completely disappear into a world of his own and thoroughly enjoyed the way Harry looked at him from across the table. His expression was warm, his green eyes bright and a soft smile lingered on his face.

It was a little after they had finished their food and were enjoying a second cup of coffee each that Draco got the feeling that there was something on Harry’s mind.

He kept his curiosity at bay for the longest time, but eventually, it got the better of him and he found himself reaching across the table and placing his hand on top of Harry’s, he squeezed gently.

“I have the feeling that there is something you want to say to me,” he said quietly, choosing to once again be bold.

He watched as Harry toyed with his hand and eventually laced their fingers together before caressing the back of Draco’s hand with his thumb. He lifted his coffee cup and took a languid sip from the hot black beverage.

“As a matter of fact, there is something I’d like to ask, I’m just not sure how you’ll feel about being asked such a question,” he said and set his coffee cup down.

He casually waved his hand around and Draco felt a wave of magic as Harry cast a wordless wandless silencing charm around them. Draco wasn’t sure why Harry had done it but found that he was too curious to question it.

“I’m intrigued.”

“As am I, Draco, as I am I,” Harry smiled.

He held his gaze with frightening ease and Draco wanted, but couldn’t, look away. He wanted to focus on his and Harry’s hands instead. There was, however, something so oddly captivating about Harry’s green eyes as they danced and twinkled with mirth, that, try as he might, Draco couldn’t bring himself to break their eye contact.

Instead, he allowed himself to drown in Harry’s eyes, wondering why he’d never noticed how incredibly expressive they were.

“Ask then,” Draco eventually urged, unable to comprehend why Harry remained silent.

He did not look in the least bit embarrassed or uncomfortable.

In fact, Draco had yet to discover what made Harry uncomfortable. He highly doubted that there was anything that could unsettle Harry. And if there was, Harry guarded those secrets well.

Although, a small part of him wanted to find out. He wanted to know everything there was to know about Harry.

“Are you sure?”

“No, but I can’t take much more of your deliberate stalling,” Draco sighed and reaching for his cappuccino he took a sip and licked a bit of foam from his upper lip when Harry pointed it out to him.

Harry started to draw slow and even circles over the pulse point of his wrist and Draco found his attention drawn away from Harry’s face. Instead, he focused on what Harry was doing to his wrist.

He wasn’t quite sure why Harry enjoyed that particular action so much but every time Harry caressed his wrist like that, he found himself filled with a sense of calmness. It was hard concentrating on being nervous or worried when Harry did _that_ to his wrist, when he touched him so gently yet with so much force.

“Well then, I was just wondering how much you enjoyed watching me wank in the shower earlier…”

Harry spoke with complete nonchalance and Draco felt his mouth go dry and a pleasant shudder surged through him as he remembered exactly what he had witnessed after waking up from his nap:

* * *

**Flashback Start**

* * *

_Draco stretched lazily, rolled onto his back, and stretched again. He blinked slowly and wrinkled his nose, then rubbed it with the back of his hand. The warm rays of summer sunshine that were streaming in through his open bedroom window were tickling his face and stretching yet again, just for good measure really, he slowly sat up in bed and decided that he had never felt better. It had been a strange morning. He had learnt yet another intimate fact about Harry and it had resulted in a mind-blowing orgasm and a_ — Draco glanced at the Muggle alarm clock on his nightstand, it was nearly two pm in the afternoon — _rather long nap._

_Feeling his stomach grumble as it demanded food, Draco pushed the blanket back and climbed out of his bed. He stretched a little more and finally awake enough to properly register his surroundings, he realised that Harry was no longer in bed with him._

Strange _, he thought, he could have sworn that he had fallen asleep with Harry spooning him. Looking around the room, Draco was about to head downstairs to check whether Harry had returned to the living room when he realised that the bathroom door was ajar and the shower was running._

_Making his way over to the bathroom, Draco couldn’t help but wonder whether Harry had purposefully forgotten to close the door or mistakenly left it ajar._

_Draco extended his hand, placed it on the doorknob and was about to pull the door closed when he heard a low groan. Shuddering, he pushed the door further open instead and pressing his cheek against the doorframe, he peaked through the gap and hastily bit his lip to swallow a small moan._

_Harry was leaning against the shower wall with his eyes closed and he was slowly wanking himself, lazily stroking his hard cock. Draco swallowed hard and felt a jolt of excitement rush down his spine. It ended in his groin and his still spent cock gave a little interested twitch._

_Feeling his face flush, Draco wanted to pull away, wanted to give Harry the privacy to finish what he was doing, but try as he might, he could not convince himself to look away. The sight of Harry wanking, with his lips slightly parted, and his face flushed with arousal — it was too captivating for Draco to just pull away and pretend he hadn’t just seen that._

_He felt a little conflicted about standing there, secretly watching Harry pleasure himself and, therefore, intruding on such a rather intimate, and very private, moment. Harry hadn’t given him permission to watch but somehow, turning away wasn’t an option. He felt bold and devious and he wanted to see more, wanted to see Harry bring himself off. Not even the knowledge that all Harry had to do was to open his eyes and he would be looking straight at him managed to scare Draco into abandoning his newly discovered voyeuristic tendency._

_Harry looked—_

_Draco had no words for how Harry looked._

_He had never seen anything more erotic than what he was witnessing right this moment._

_Clasping his right hand over his mouth and digging the nails of his left hand into his thigh, Draco tried his best to remain calm and quiet as he watched Harry quicken the pace of his strokes, as he watched him grip his erection harder, as he tilted his head slightly towards the water and licked his lips. He watched as Harry began to fondle his own balls. He rolled them in the palm of his hand and squeezed them gently as his other hand began to fly over his cock, stroking, rubbing, causing delicious friction._

_Another moan escaped Harry’s lips and this one wasn’t low; it was downright indecent._

_It felt like Harry had moaned right into his ear, and Draco shuddered as his own cock began to express a definite interest in the free pornographic show._

_For a moment, Draco felt tempted to touch himself as he watched Harry wank, but he dismissed the idea. He just wanted to watch, wanted to enjoy._

_Shoving half of his hand into his mouth, Draco swallowed any moan that might have been on the tip of his tongue and wondered what Harry was thinking about._

_Was he thinking about him? And if he was, were his thoughts filled with kinky ideas or did Harry keep his thoughts vanilla when wanking?_

_Draco couldn’t even begin to imagine what Harry may be thinking about but his mind still filled with all sorts of filthy ideas as he imagined Harry tying him up and making him watch as he pleasured himself, then making him beg for Harry’s touch and his orgasm…_

_Unable to stop a low whimper from escaping his past his lips, Draco bit down harder onto his hand and stared at Harry as he fisted himself with hard and rough strokes, working himself to the edge and then pushing himself over it._

_Harry came in hot spurts, spilling his seed over his hand and the shower floor and as he stood there, panting, and trying to come down from his high, Draco couldn’t help but think that he would have loved to swallow every single drop of Harry’s come and savour it._

_He shuddered and moving away from the door, he climbed back onto the bed and under the covers. He rolled onto his front to hide his throbbing erection lest Harry chose exactly that moment to walk out of the bathroom._

* * *

**Flashback End**

* * *

“Draco?”

Harry’s gentle but insistent voice pulled Draco out of his reverie and back into the present.

He kept his eyes firmly locked onto Harry’s hand, watching as his thumb continued to draw circles over his pulse point and felt his face heat up as he flushed crimson. He attempted to pull his hand away from Harry’s loose grasp but Harry was faster and held on to him.

“Look at me,” he said softly.

Draco resolutely shook his head.

“No,” he mumbled, keeping his eyes firmly fixed onto the table.

Yet another flush of embarrassment, this one seemingly even more intense than the first, crept onto his face. He had been so sure that Harry hadn’t seen him, hadn’t seen him stand pressed to the doorframe enjoying the free show.

“Why not?”

Harry’s voice was still gentle and before Draco had the chance to pull away, he found his chin gently cupped and pushed upwards. He let his eyes dart around the room and, unwilling to look at Harry, he dragged his bottom lip into his mouth and chewed on it.

“Look at me,” Harry prompted again, then added a soft _please_ that sent a shudder through Draco.

He stubbornly held out for a few more moments, then finally relented and allowed his gaze meet Harry’s.

His breath promptly caught in his throat.

Harry was looking at him with darkened eyes, shining with arousal.

“What were you thinking about in the shower?”

Despite the silencing charm, Harry had cast around them, Draco whispered the question, sounding almost breathless even though he hadn’t exerted himself at all.

“You,” Harry smiled. “You, when you so willingly got down on your knees in front of me earlier. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful. You were a bit too out of it after your orgasm so I took care of the hard-on you gave me.”

“How did you—”

Draco broke off and swallowed hard as his own head filled with images of himself kneeling in front of Harry. He remembered the look of pure unadulterated love he had seen in Harry’s eyes when he had called him _Sir_ simply because he had wanted to know what it would feel like. He hadn’t been prepared for the overwhelming desire to submit to Harry after Harry had made it so blatantly obvious that he enjoyed it and the memory still gave him goose bumps.

“The door was ajar and my eyes weren’t completely closed all the time,” Harry explained without Draco ever getting the chance to finish his question.

“It was such a turn on, knowing you were standing here, watching me,” he smiled and Draco swallowed hard.

“I— It was— h— hot,” he whispered. “I was so turned on, it made me want to wank.”

“Did you?”

Harry smiled. He withdrew his hand from underneath Draco’s chin and trapped Draco’s hand between both of his. Draco did not look away but shook his head.

“No. No, I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“I just wanted to watch,” Draco admitted sheepishly.

Harry reacted with a positively devious grin.

“Now I can’t help but wonder whether you have a penchant for that,” he teased.

With a cough and splutter, Draco reached for his drink and finished off the remainder of his cappuccino.

“Keep wondering,” he said.

He took a deep breath, straightened up a little, then withdrew his hand from Harry’s loose grasp.

“I’m not an open book, I’ve secrets too.”

“Can I have the key to them all, please?”

Draco laughed and shook his head.

“No, you’ll have to make your own.”

“I see, a challenge. I do like a good challenge.”

“Well, rumour has it you managed to break into Gringotts, I’m sure you’ll get them out of me at some point.”

“I’m sure I will,” Harry winked.

He cancelled the silencing charm around them and called the waiter over to settle their bill.

When they left the restaurant and were on their way back to Draco’s flat, Harry informed him that he would have to head into the office for a while to catch up on a bunch of paperwork and Draco did not like the sound of that — he wanted to spend more time with Harry. Still, he knew better than to make a fuss about it.

They were both adults with jobs that occasionally, or often, required them to work overtime and getting upset about it wasn’t going to change a single thing about the situation.

Instead, he nodded and once Harry had left — though not without a kiss that left Draco feeling week at the knees. — he decided to spend the remainder of the afternoon perusing a few speciality bookshops for more information on what he and Harry had discussed earlier.

He wasn’t quite sure where to start looking but he was in no rush to satisfy all his curiosity in one afternoon. He was sure that the internet held more answers but the idea of overwhelming himself with information, rather terrified Draco. That, and while he Muggle devices and other modern technology no longer scared him, books made him feel a lot more comfortable. He was sure that he was bound to find something or other to satisfy his curiosity.


	22. When Life Gets In The Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)
> 
> Don’t hate me but I’m going to throw those boys a bit of a curveball...because real life isn’t always perfect either.

* * *

“Come in,” Harry responded to the knock on his office door and moved his chair back with a certain level of exasperation — not because of his unexpected visitor but because it was one of those days were seemingly nothing went the way it was supposed to go. He couldn’t help but wish that he hadn’t bothered getting up this morning.

Standing up, he searched his desk for the document he needed for his files but, much to his vexation, couldn’t find.

“I swear I just had you in my hand,” he snarled angrily.

He leafed through yet another thick case file in the desperate hope that he had merely accidentally misplaced the document. No such luck. _Incendio_ was rapidly becoming a very good idea.

“Fuck— I hate this job!”  
  
“Is this a bad time?”

The familiar sound of Draco’s voice made Harry pause what he was doing and looking up, he smiled.

“No, you, Draco Malfoy, are a most pleasant distraction from all this paperwork and the headache it comes with. If I’d known about this, I would have formally turned down the job and left the country… _again_. Being an Auror was easier than this nightmare. Tell me, whatever was I thinking?”

“Director Potter, don’t you have a secretary to take care of this for you?” Draco teased

He walked further into the room and let the door fall closed behind him. Harry noted that he was holding a bag of takeaway food and the moment Harry’s eyes fell onto the bag, his stomach started rumbling loudly.

Lunch.

He had completely missed lunch. Not only missed but also forgotten about.

“I have two, the responsibility to review case reports and sign off on them is, however, mine and mine alone. I wish I could pawn it off on somebody else, I honestly do,” Harry sighed.

He let himself fall back into his chair, glared at the dozens of case files and folders that were piling up on his desk, taking up more space than he was content to let them. He hated the mess; it made his skin crawl and the hair at the back of his neck stand up. It made his hand itch, made him want to draw his wand and cast a very strong _Reducto_ at everything on his desk. He needed a filing system; one he understood and could handle — preferably yesterday.

Sadly, he had no time to invent one.

“Always hard at work,” Draco smiled.

He approached Harry’s desk and as he did, he bent down to pick up an interrogation report from underneath one of the chairs in front of Harry’s desk.

“Were you by any chance looking for this?” he asked as he rounded the desk and placed a thermal takeaway bag on Harry’s desk.

“Merlin, yes!” Harry exclaimed.

He took the file and studied it briefly, then nodded to himself and reached for the case file it had fallen out of. He put it back where it belonged, stood up, pulled Draco into his arms, pushed him back against his desk and kissed him soundly.

“Hm, if that’s what I get for coming up to your office, I should visit more often.”

Draco hummed in approval and Harry chuckled.

“You’re always welcome in my office, Draco Malfoy, especially wearing those prosecutor’s robes. Sinful, just sinful, that’s what you are.”

Harry laughed and planted another kiss on Draco’s lips, then pulled back slightly. Suddenly, he was in a much better mood.

“I figured you might like these, so I left them on,” Draco said with a devious smirk. “I also figured that since it’s your birthday I should be the one to bring you lunch.”

“Smart, sophisticated, sexy and submissive, you tick all my boxes, Prosecutor Malfoy,” Harry grinned.

He didn’t even attempt to hide the mischievous glint that twinkled in his eyes and gave Draco another kiss, then sat back down in his chair and folded one leg over the other.

“I’m going to have to untick a couple of those boxes, I’m afraid,” Draco sighed.

Harry frowned but remained quiet. He had the feeling that Draco would voluntarily explain himself eventually.

For now, Draco handed him a takeaway box of good old-fashioned beef lasagne along with a spoon. Harry removed the lid, inhaled deeply and sinking his spoon into the hot dish, he brought a large bite to his lips. Draco, on the other hand, munched on a bread roll with grilled chicken, lettuce, tomato, and cucumber and Harry quietly approved of the fact that Draco was having real food before he indulged in a sweet treat.

“No dessert for you?” Harry teased between bites and Draco rolled his eyes.

“In the bag. What do you take me for? No dessert? Please! That day will never come.”

“Uh, my humble apologies, I won’t ever make the mistake to assume you don’t want dessert again. Do I get a bite since it is my birthday and all?”

“I got you a large piece of treacle tart and warm custard,” Draco winked.

“Careful now, you might just make me fall in love with you.”

“I was under the impression _Sir_ already was, in love with me that is.”

Harry’s eyes darkened. Draco had deliberately used that title and it did unspeakable things to him. It woke the beast inside of him and it took him several minutes before he managed to rein in his kinky thoughts. All it would take was a locking and silencing charm and he could have Draco on his knees in front of him, sucking his cock instead of eating that bread roll. He barely contained the low growl that wanted to slip past his slips — he wanted Draco and he wanted him bad.

“Don’t even think about it.”

Draco sternly cut right through his thoughts and Harry instantly banished every kinky thought he had floating in his mind.

“As you wish.”

He smiled and noted the rather apologetic look on Draco’s face.

“Not that I don’t enjoy the idea of a bit of kinky office sex, but I absolutely do not have time to indulge you. That is the bad news I came to deliver and I thought lunch, these robes, and your favourite dessert would soften the blow.”

Harry chuckled at Draco’s choice of words but said nothing — he did silently disagree though; whatever was the fun in softening the blow, it had to sting, otherwise it was no fun.

Still, he raised a questioning eyebrow at Draco and waited for his explanation.

“I’ve got to go and accompany a bunch of Court Aurors to interview a witness for a potentially big case, but I can’t tell you where I am going or when exactly I’ll be back. I’ve got to go today, this afternoon in fact, and although I don’t expect to stay overnight, I’m afraid I can’t honour our plans for your birthday. This lunch is a pathetic apology for having to cancel dinner at the last minute. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you on the weekend?”

“You better,” Harry smiled. “And don’t worry, I understand.”

“Not mad then?”

“I’m not that petty, Draco.”

“I know, but it _is_ your birthday and all. I do feel bad.”

“I’ll live, work is work. There will be times when I want to spend time with you but will have to put work first. Such is life. Unless we both elope and spend our hard-earned fortunes on a desert island in the Caribbean, I don’t see how we’ll manage to avoid life occasionally getting in the way. It’ll give me a chance to catch up with Teddy and see what Hermione and Ron think about the two of us dating.”

“You— you want to tell them?” Draco asked and Harry thought that he looked just a little horrified at the idea.

“You told your mother,” Harry shrugged.

He had been wanting to tell Hermione and Ron for a while but hadn’t been able to find the right time to do so. Since Draco was, unexpectedly, otherwise engaged, Harry intended to grab the dragon by its talons and sit his two best friends down for a chat.

“Yeah, but we are talking about Granger and Weasley. Are you sure they won’t rip me to shreds?” Draco asked, looking rather uncomfortable.

“Anyone who wants to rip you to shreds has to get past me first,” Harry said with a smile.

He put his lasagne down on his desk, stood up, and moved in front of Draco. He gently brushed his fingertips over his pale cheek, then leant in to steal a kiss.

“I mean it, anyone who wants to do you harm needs to get past me first,” he whispered and placing a hand on Draco’s hip, he leant even closer and kissed his earlobe.

“I’m fiercely protective of you, my little prince. You’re mine to rip to shreds and I’m not delegating that honour. It’s non-negotiable, I don’t share, not ever.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Yes, I do, Draco,” Harry murmured.

He pulled back and stared into Draco’s eyes, stared until Draco swallowed hard.

“But you also know what I meant; I will not stand for anyone not accepting the person I want to be with. I have given enough of myself to everyone around; I deserve and demand the respect to freely choose the people I want to surround myself with. Anyone who doesn’t agree with that is welcome to have a discussion with me about that, however, if it gets nasty, I can’t promise that I won’t draw my wand to solve the matter with a small hex or three,” Harry said.

He squeezed Draco’s hip just firm enough for Draco to distinctly feel the possessive touch through his robes and trousers. It had the desired effect of pulling a low breathy whimper from the depths of Draco’s chest.

“Are you saying you’re planning to hex your two best friends if they don’t accept me as your boyfriend?” Draco asked, wide-eyed.

Harry laughed.

“I don’t need to do that; I know they’ll accept my choice to be with whoever makes me happy.”

“Are you sure?”

Draco continued to look sceptical.

“Don’t worry, Hermione won’t turn you into a ferret and she won’t punch you in the face either, you have my word,” Harry teased.

Draco’s eyes darkened several shades. He scowled and schooled his expression into a hard, icy glare.

“Harry Potter, you _did not_ just go there,” Draco snarled.

Taking a precautionary step back, Harry laughed.

“Ah, but I did,” he winked.

“For that comment, I reserve the right to withhold sex. I’d all but forgotten about that incident.”

Draco looked rather miffed and setting his bread roll down on a large napkin, he crossed his arms over his chest.

Harry stepped closer again and placing his hand on Draco’s thigh, he squeezed gently, then slowly slid his hand up and underneath Draco’s robes, past his hip. He squeezed Draco’s waist, just above the hip where the flesh was soft and sensitive, and nudging Draco’s legs apart he wedged his thigh between them.

“Are you sure that’s what you want to do?” Harry whispered and leaning in, he brushed his lips against Draco’s.

It pleased him to feel Draco shiver at the feather-light kiss and watch him swallow hard.

Trailing his lips along Draco’s jaw, Harry planted a few soft kisses on Draco’s cheek.

“I’ve no problem with you withholding sex, my little prince, I’d be only too happy to tie you to the bed, then tease and pleasure myself, maybe even ride your cock until I come all over you and you only get to look on, ‘cause I’d make damn sure you get to withhold sex just as you threatened,” he murmured against Draco’s ear.

Sneaking his free arm fully around Draco’s waist, he pulled Draco flush against him, nuzzled the side of Draco’s neck and eventually gently sunk his teeth into the pale skin. He drew a low moan from Draco’s lips and soothing the slightly abused flesh with his lips and tongue, looked deep into Draco’s eyes.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Draco croaked.

He blinked several times and Harry watched him swallow repeatedly.

“Hm, what did you mean then? You said you wanted to withhold sex; I think this would be an excellent way to do that.”

“No.”

Draco’s feeble protest came out as a low whine and Harry chuckled.

“No? Don’t want me to ride your cock then if you don’t get to come? How about you watch me instead, I’ll just sit on the bed, spread my legs, and give you a private show. As I remember, you do seem to enjoy these… I’ll let you watch me wank while you’re tied to the bed with a cock ring firmly in place to make sure you don’t come until you decide you don’t want to withhold sex anymore. I’d let you hear me moan your name as I tell you all the depraved things, I’m thinking about doing to you.”

“Harry—" Draco moaned.

“Yes, my love?”

“You are filthy.”

“Ah yes, you bring out my sly side, the devious one that should have been sorted into Slytherin,” Harry chuckled.

He stood back and gave Draco a bit of space to gather his bearings. Sitting down in his chair, he resumed eating his lasagne with complete nonchalance and as though he hadn’t just whispered several mouthfuls of utterly lewd fantasies into Draco’s ear.

“You play dirty,” Draco mumbled, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself down.

“Only when you give me the right incentive to do so. I assume you no longer have any problems with me telling Hermione and Ron about us, then?”

“Prosecution rests.”

Draco smirked.

Harry laughed heartily.

“You give in too easily, Prosecutor Malfoy.”

“Only for you, Director Potter, _Sir_.”

“I should hope so. Now, I was under the impression you promised me treacle tart?”

Draco wordlessly reached inside the takeaway bag. He produced a plastic bowl of treacle tart and a cup of custard, as well as a sturdy-looking plastic fork.

“You don’t need me to feed you, do you?” he teased and Harry chuckled.

“Only if you sit on my lap while you do so.”

Draco frowned.

“Are you kidding or are you actually serious?”

“You figure it out.”

Harry smiled. He uncrossed his legs and wondered what decision Draco would make. When Draco, armed with treacle tart and custard sat down in his lap less than a minute later, he wasn’t at all surprised. Draco enjoyed their power play; it gave him a kick.

“I can’t help but think that somehow this dynamic is all off. Aren’t you supposed to demand that I kneel at your feet while you feed me my favourite dessert?” Draco asked as he offered Harry a forkful of treacle tart and custard.

“Is that what you want? Do you want to kneel at my feet and let me feed you your favourite dessert?”

Harry promptly turned the question around, then closed his mouth around the bite of treacle tart, Draco offered him. He locked his arms around Draco’s waist and squeezed, keeping Draco close.

“Why is it that you always twist all my questions around? Auror or lawyer, you are suited for both jobs.”

Draco sighed.

Harry took the fork from his hand and dipped it into the warm custard, then offered it to Draco, who accepted it willingly.

“Let me give you the simplest explanation of all; I’m not going to _demand_ that you kneel at my feet and let me feed you anything if that isn’t what you want,” Harry said softly.

“I will never force you to do anything you’re not comfortable with. If you let me, I may push your boundaries a little, but I won’t ever make a demand if I don’t explicitly know that this is something you will enjoy. Decide for yourself. If kneeling at my feet, letting me feed you, is what excites you, I’d be happy to fulfil that wish,” Harry elaborated a little further, then fed himself another large piece of treacle tart, delighting in the lingering sweetness of his favourite treat.

“This is a mindfuck.”

Draco sighed and running one hand up and down Draco’s thigh, Harry distracted him a little.

“I’d also be happy to sit on the couch with you and _share_ your favourite dessert,” he presented Draco with yet another option, hoping to show him that the decision was entirely up to him. Yes, Harry loved taking control, but at the end of the day, Draco was in charge and he needed him to realise that. It would take time, but Harry was confident that they’d eventually get there.

“You don’t like eating that much sweet stuff,” Draco objected instantly, stole the fork from Harry and fed him some custard, followed by a small piece of treacle tart.

Harry accepted both offerings with a smile.

“I never said we had to share equally now, did I? Me eating one piece of chocolate and you enjoying ten is still sharing, isn’t it?”

He smirked and Draco rolled his eyes but said nothing else.

“You drive me crazy,” he said after a while and Harry laughed.

“Well, I hope it’s a good kind of crazy. While I do think you’d look exquisite in restraints, I don’t think a straightjacket would flatter you at all. That cream-white does not compliment your pale complexion. Those black prosecutor’s robes, however, those do compliment you, perfectly so.”

“Charmer.”

Draco rolled his eyes.

“Hm, yes, I’d love to charm all your clothes off,” Harry retorted.

Draco, pretending to take offence over the crude joke, promptly attempted to remove himself from his lap. Harry simply tightened his hold on him and refused to let him go.

“I haven’t finished my dessert yet; I will not let you go until I’ve had all of my birthday treats.”

“Harry—”

“Yes, my love?”

“Please tell me that by ‘ _all of your birthday treats_ ’ you mean finishing your treacle tart and custard and only that,” Draco said, looking somewhat wary.

“But of course, my little prince,” Harry smiled, then winked. “I’ll finish you over the weekend.”


	23. Heart To Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)

* * *

“We’re losing!”

Teddy stated the obvious. He had perched himself comfortably on Harry’s lap, reasoning that he needed to be close to Harry.

Harry hadn’t had any objections there; quality time with Teddy was something he simply couldn’t get enough of, even if it meant that he couldn’t feel his thighs anymore because Teddy insisted on using them as his own personal chair.

At some point during the evening, Teddy had changed his hair colour to jet-black which, Harry thought, almost made him look like a much younger version of himself.

“How very observant of you, Teddy,” Harry said.

He made sure to keep his annoyance out of his voice lest his godson misunderstood.

However, it didn’t stop him from giving the wizarding chessboard in front of him a very disdainful look — he absolutely had no idea why he always managed to allow Ron to talk him into a game, although this time around it had actually been Teddy who had demanded that he show Uncle Ron his place. So far, he wasn’t doing a very good job at complying with Teddy’s wishes.

He defiantly glared at Ron, who merely smirked.

Harry couldn’t help but wonder whether he would ever see the day that he managed to defeat Ron at wizarding chess.

He highly doubted it. Apparently, however, it didn’t stop him from trying. Charlie was right, he truly was a special kind of masochist.

“You know, Uncle Ron, it’s Harry’s birthday today, you really should let him win.”

“I’ll happily let him win, Teddy, he just needs to make more of an effort, that’s all,” Ron replied.

Harry was rather impressed, and a little proud, when Teddy boldly shot Ron an icy death glare across the table.

 _If you turn your hair white-blond and your eyes a lovely shade of pewter you could pass for a miniature version of Draco Malfoy_ , he thought and chuckled to himself.

When both Ron and Hermione, who was sitting next to her husband, quietly observing the game, shot him curious glances, Harry schooled his expression into one of calm nonchalance. He wasn’t about to tell his two best friends about the developments in his love life while his godson was sitting in his lap.

Reaching for his tumbler of Firewhiskey, Harry took a small sip and surveyed the chessboard, wondering whether he and Teddy stood any chance at all. He was about to make a move when Ginny approached the table, briefly hugged him from behind and mumbled something into his ear that made him grin from ear to ear.

Ron’s expression instantly turned sour and he glared at his younger sister.

Ginny merely shrugged, entirely unfazed by Ron’s disapproval of her disregard for the rules. She sat down at the head of the table and summoned an apple from the kitchen. As she sank her teeth into it, Harry instructed his knight to boldly attack Ron’s bishop. Teddy clapped his hands and squealed in excitement while Ron looked less than pleased and ground his teeth to stop himself from cursing in the presence of a minor.

Harry hugged Teddy tightly, then placed a kiss on his cheek, grateful that Teddy was still young enough to enjoy having cuddles and kisses forced upon him. He couldn’t help but wonder how much longer Teddy would allow him to get away with it but decided not to question a good thing while it lasted.

“You lot should be out dancing or whatever it is you kids do these days, not sitting around the table playing chess on Harry’s birthday of all days,” Arthur said.

He briefly stopping at the table on his way upstairs, cradling his sleeping granddaughter Rose protectively in his arms. He had happily volunteered to take over babysitting duties to give Ron and Hermione a little bit of a break.

Molly, who usually helped to look after most of the Weasley grandchildren during the week, was sitting on the sofa and enjoying a glass of sherry along with the latest copy of Witch Weekly. It was a rare sight not to see her bustle about the place, doing this and that, and Harry relished in the opportunity to see her unwind. She deserved it.

Admittedly, Harry was a tiny bit sour about Draco unexpectedly cancelling their dinner plans in favour of a secretive business trip but he was also mature enough not to let it affect his mood — there was really no point. His unplanned arrival at the Burrow meant that less than half of the Weasley family was present and his birthday celebrations were a rather quiet affair.

Then again, Harry didn’t mind; quiet was just as good.

Molly had whipped up a fantastic birthday dinner and the chance to spend a little bit of quality time with Teddy, Ron, and Hermione was too good an opportunity to pass up.

Besides, he had the feeling that Molly was probably already planning a big dinner affair to make up for the lack of a party they were having tonight and Harry couldn’t help but look forward to the event. Attending boisterous parties at the Burrow was one of his favourite pastimes, though lately, his other pastime had taken precedence over that. He thoroughly enjoyed spending as much time as possible with Draco.

“I’m perfectly happy to spend my birthday in the company of my adopted family instead of out dancing at a club,” Harry said.

Arthur gave him a wink, then disappeared upstairs. Most likely to put Rose to bed so that he, too, could enjoy a drink and relax for a while.

“You’re getting old and boring, Director Potter,” Ginny said between swallowing a bite she’d taken from her apple and once again sinking her teeth into the sweet, juicy fruit.

Harry rolled his eyes at her in response.

“Really? You’re really going to go _there_?”

He gave her a long hard glare and she smirked.

“You don’t scare me, _Sir_.”

She teased him boldly and with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Harry went to retort something but found himself momentarily distracted when Teddy loudly protested in his arms.

They both watched with mild horror as Ron’s rook moved to attack Harry’s king.

Looking far too pleased with himself, Ron announced, “ _Check!”_

The game went on a little longer but it quickly became apparent that not even Ginny’s whispered help could save Harry from ungracefully losing the game and when he did, Ron punched the air with glee.

“Did it again. Save me the trouble of repeatedly proving it to you, Potter, and just admit that you’re a bloody awful player.”

Teddy, his hair now fiery red with purple streaks, stormed over to Molly and asked her whether she had some chocolate cake. She affirmed and several moments later, Teddy presented Harry with a big slice of chocolate cake, while happily munching away on a big home-baked chocolate chip biscuit.

“Nana Tonks says chocolate solves all problems,” he said with a most sincere expression.

Harry smiled warmly, then pulled Teddy into his arms and gave him a big sloppy kiss. Teddy squealed in protest, squirmed in his arms, and wriggling out of his embrace, he ducked away.

“You know what’s even better than chocolate?”

Harry grinned wickedly, rose to his feet, and pretended to look all menacing.

“Chasing little Metamorphmagus boys around the place!” he laughed.

Teddy screeched and dashed off. Harry chased him around the house and the grounds outside and took his sweet time catching Teddy. He could have done so with ease but he could tell that Teddy was thoroughly enjoying their little horseplay and didn’t want to cut it short.

When he finally caught Teddy, he picked him up and mercilessly threw him over his shoulder. He playfully used his buttocks as a drum set and tapped out the rhythm of a silly pop song stuck in his head. Teddy protested heavily but Harry easily turned those protests into breathless laughter. He tickled Teddy’s sides while his godson twisted and turned with quick writhing movements, clearly trying to escape but not managing to do so since Harry had an iron grip on him.

It took Teddy pleading for mercy for Harry to finally ease up on his attack and setting his godson down, Harry benevolently allowed him to catch his breath.

After a few moments, Teddy placed his hands on his hips, glared at Harry and turned his hair a defiant shade of blue. Harry laughed and Teddy stalked off in a pretend huff.

Arthur, who had returned from putting his granddaughter down for the night, offered to entertain him with a game of _Exploding Snap_ and he guaranteed that Teddy would win.

Harry shook his head, returned to the table, and sitting down, he treated himself to a forkful of chocolate cake.

He couldn’t help but miss Draco terribly.

He pushed the plate of chocolate cake away and staring at it, he imagined Draco pulling the plate towards himself with a big grin.

 _You’d enjoy that cake, wouldn’t you, my little prince?_ Harry thought wistfully.

When he looked up, he found himself staring at three expectant faces that belonged to Hermione, Ron, and Ginny.

“So, are you finally going to tell those two that you’re in love, or should I?” Ginny asked.

Harry scowled at her.

“In love?” Hermione queried.

Ginny’s bold question had clearly sparked her interest and Ron looked equally as curious.

“Anyone we know?” he wanted to know.

Harry scowled again when Ginny answered in the affirmative.

“Oh yeah, you all know him,” she said with a conspicuous grin.

Harry threw her an icy glower.

“I told you, Potter, you don’t scare me, you can shoot daggers at me all you like,” she teased and Harry rolled his eyes.

“I’m afraid the brat is telling the truth, I’ve been seeing someone for the past few months and we’re rather serious about each other,” Harry confessed.

He purposefully refrained from revealing Draco’s name just yet, especially because Molly had just taken a seat next to Hermione and was now listening expectantly.

Apparently, her adopted son’s love life was more interesting than anything _Witch Weekly_ printed these days — weren’t there any made-up rumours about him inside the tabloid? Harry couldn’t fault Molly for her interest, though he wasn’t entirely sure how comfortable he was revealing the name of his boyfriend in front of her. He had no idea how she would react to the news that he had fallen head over heels in love with Draco Malfoy, that the feeling was mutual, and that it wasn’t just a simple fling but something a lot more serious.

“Oi, Potter, I’m no brat,” Ginny protested and went to slap his bare forearm.

He caught her hand with ease and held it in a vice-like grip.

“You so are and you know it.”

Harry gave her a stern look, then turned to give Molly an apologetic look. Ginny was, after all, her daughter.

“I wholeheartedly agree with you, Harry, that one has always been a troublemaker. I don’t fault her though, it’s tough growing up with only brothers around you,” Molly winked.

Smiling, Harry let go of Ginny’s hand.

“I did think that there was something different about you recently,” Hermione mused and her eyes twinkled with mirth. “I can’t believe I didn’t put two and two together. Motherhood’s got me all frazzled, I think. Who’s the mysterious man we all know then?” she asked.

Harry sighed.

He eyed Ron warily, then turned his head to look at Ginny, who merely shrugged.

“Apparently I am a brat, but I’m not going to tell them for you,” she said.

With those words, she lay claim on Harry’s abandoned chocolate cake. She pulled the plate closer to her and started eating. Harry watched her for a while and couldn’t help but wish that Ginny was a little more devious.

Then again, her ability to keep a secret was exactly why Harry loved her so much. He doubted that even Veritaserum had the power to make Ginny reveal a secret she didn’t want to share with anyone. She was the perfect Secret Keeper.

“Why does my sister know who you’re dating but I’ve been left in the dark?”

Ron quipped up in obvious protest and with a frown firmly in place.

“Because _your_ reaction, Ron, worries me the most.”

Harry let out an audible breath and sat back in his chair.

“And yours, Molly,” he added.

Her warm, encouraging smile made him feel even worse.

“As long as he makes you happy, you have my full support,” she said. “You’ve always been a good judge of character.”

Harry looked back and forth between the four of them. He wanted to be bold and tell them but also wanted to be a coward and run. He wanted to get to his feet and run as fast as they would carry him. He gave himself a mental bollocking, he really needed to pull himself together. This was ridiculous.

 _You’re a complete idiot, they’re your friends_ , he reprimanded himself and couldn’t help but wonder how his best friends and his adopted family always managed to turn him into such a scaredy-cat. It wasn’t him, not usually anyway. He generally had a bit more backbone than that. This family, _his_ family, brought out his stranger side.

 _Because you love them and their opinions matter_ , his treacherous mind unhelpfully supplied and taking a deep breath he thought, _well, here goes nothing, at worst, there’s hopefully an empty plot waiting for me next to my parents’ grave_.

“He works for the Ministry. He’s a prosecutor and you all know him because he and I attended Hogwarts together, albeit not in the same house.”

Harry paused and looked first at Molly, then at Hermione — who looked like her grey cells were hard at work, trying to solve the puzzle — and finally at Ron. He tried to gauge whether they had guessed that he was talking about Draco Malfoy but their faces didn’t give anything away at all.

Since Ginny already knew, he didn’t bother to look at her. He knew that she was most likely smirking to herself.

 _Sadist_ , he thought.

He honestly didn’t need to see her face to know that she was enjoying the way he was squirming and vowed to hex her the second he next got a chance to do so.

When it became apparent that neither Molly nor Hermione and Ron were going to start guessing who his boyfriend was, Harry took a deep breath and decided to jump into the deep end of the pool. In for a knut, in for a galleon.

“His name is Draco Malfoy.”

The deafening silence that followed his statement drove Harry to the brink of insanity and he couldn’t help but wonder whether he should be drawing his wand and thinking about defensive spells.

“Wait, what, the _ferret_?”

Ron was, unsurprisingly, the first to find his voice.

Harry pulled a face.

Ron’s voice had risen several octaves and he sounded screechy. He was also staring at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.

“Don’t call him that, please, Ron. I love him and hearing that hurts,” Harry said without thinking about his choice of words.

“You _love_ him?”

Ron’s question earnt him an elbow between his ribs from his wife. Harry gave her a grateful smile which she returned.

“Yes, I do. I love him,” Harry repeated.

He felt a little braver now that the truth was out and he was merely reaffirming it. Neither his friends nor Molly had drawn their wands yet and it made Harry feel somewhat hopeful.

He looked at Molly and tried to work out what his adoptive mother was thinking about but her expression did not give her away and Harry involuntarily squirmed under her scrutinising gaze.

He felt the almost irresistible temptation to explain himself, to tell them how much Draco had changed since Hogwarts and how much good he did with his work as a prosecutor but kept his mouth firmly shut. He knew that all of them read the papers and Draco’s cases, most of them high-profile because he was just _that_ good, rather frequently made the front pages of The Prophet.

“You’ve gone insane.”

Ron shook his head and rising from his chair, he announced that he needed some fresh air. He was about to leave through the backdoor when Ginny drew her wand and shot a leg-locker-curse at his back. Ron’s knees buckled instantly and swaying back and forth, he desperately tried to keep his balance but went down to the sound of Ginny’s roaring laughter.

“Don’t be such a prude, Ronald Weasley, you didn’t make such a drama when he told you that he was gay,” Ginny said firmly.

She stood up and walked over to where her brother was lying on the floor. He was trying but failing to get back onto his feet. Harry bit the inside of his mouth to stop himself from smirking as he watched Ginny point her wand at Ron’s chest.

“I’ll cancel the spell if you promise to be a good boy and sit down at the table with all the other grownups,” Ginny drawled with a bored expression.

When Ron spluttered indignantly and began to throw a couple of colourful insults at his younger sister, she laughed.

“Ronald Weasley, not under _my_ roof!” Molly said brusquely and Ron instantly snapped his mouth shut. He looked as though he was suffering from the effects of a lip-locker-jinx on top of the leg-locker-curse that kept him on the floor.

 _Ginny Weasley, you are a devious brat_ , Harry thought and decided, right there and then, that one simply had to have the greatest respect for her — she didn’t take any crap, no matter who tried to give it to her.

 _Damn you woman, are you sure you’re not a dominatrix? Maybe you want to be? You’re one hell of a scary witch!_ he mused.

The mental image of Ginny dressed in black leather with red knee-high boots, wielding a whip in one hand, and branding her wand, disguised as a cane, in the other made him want to laugh.

He managed to school his features into a mostly nonchalant expression and abandoned any and all ill-placed salacious thoughts about the woman he considered to be his little sister, partner-in-crime, and all-around greatest female friend he’d ever had.

“I’m sorry, mum.”

Ron apologised and with a flick of her wand, Ginny removed the leg-locker-curse and returned to sit at the table.

Ron took a moment to gather his wits, then cautiously clambered to his feet and gingerly moved back to sit at the table. He glared at Ginny, crossed his arms over his chest and frowned.

Harry struggled to work out what Ron was more irritated about; the fact that his sister had hexed him or the fact that his best friend was in a relationship with Draco Malfoy.

For a moment, everyone was silent and Harry was about to say something when Molly cleared her throat and folded her arms on the table.

“Well, Harry, my boy, although you already hinted to me about being in a relationship, I can’t say I’m too pleased now that I know who he is.”

She extended her hand and reaching across the table, she placed her hand on top of Harry’s bare forearm and squeezed firmly, appeasing him before his fear of what she was about to say next managed to take a proper hold.

“However, I stand by my word, you have always been a good judge of character. It’s a skill you undoubtedly got from your mother; may she rest in peace. So, Harry, for as long as you’re happy and if he is good to you, then you have my support. You, of course, know that I do expect that you bring that Malfoy boy by so I can tell him exactly how I feel about him even just thinking about hurting you.”

Harry chuckled and placed his hand on top of Molly’s hand, patting it gently.

“Molly, I fear you’ll scare him into a heart attack if you tell him that.”

“Good, it’ll keep him from thinking about any funny business. He needs to know how I feel about anyone hurting my boy, you _are_ family. Let me say this much though, Harry, if Christmas passes and the boy hasn’t been here to formally introduce himself as your boyfriend, I shall find myself forced to pay him a visit at the Ministry to question the impeccable manners all those aristocratic purebloods always claim to have so much of,” Molly said with a sense of satisfaction and purpose alike.

Harry’s respect for the woman instantly increased tenfold. Her expression and the way she spoke told him everything he needed to know and, really, had always known. Molly loved him as fiercely as she loved all her children. She would stop at nothing to make sure that nobody rubbed him up the wrong way.

 _Maybe I should get you on my team of Aurors; Chief Interrogator_ , Harry thought.

He was convinced that Molly’s menacing looks could scare a full confession out of any perpetrator — she didn’t need Veritaserum to get the truth out of anyone. People knew better than to try and lie to Molly Weasley. Despite her charm, her sense of perception and ability to read between the lines was as sharp as the talons of an eagle.

Grateful for Molly’s support, Harry decided to turn his attention to Hermione and Ron.

His best friend still had his arms crossed over his chest and looked everything but happy about having found out that he was involved none other than Draco Malfoy, former Slytherin git, ex-Death Eater, and mostly redeemed Ministry do-gooder with a very brief career as a four-legged bushy-tailed rodent.

 _Mostly you are my gorgeous little prince though_ , Harry mused with a smile and made a mental note to tell Draco when he saw him next. He didn’t even care that Draco would most likely mock him mercilessly for it.

Harry reluctantly reminded himself that he still had unfinished business and pulling himself out of his thoughts, he caught Hermione’s expression. Her eyes were warm and loving. She placed one arm around Ron’s shoulders.

“Don’t worry, Harry, I’ll sort this one out. You know that he’s not a fan of changes, but he’ll come around. You have my word,” she reassured him.

Harry chanced a glance at Ron, who shot him an icy glare and grumbled something incomprehensible.

“Yeah, you’ll come around, won’t you, Ron, darling?” Ginny quipped up, “Because I know a few really good jinxes that could make your life a bit miserable and I do look forward to using these on you,” she added with a vicious expression, although the cheeky twinkle in her eyes gave her away.

“Ginevra Weasley, stop being so mean to your brother,” Molly scolded her but the smirk that tugged at the left corner of her mouth told a different story altogether.

 _Poor Ron, what have I done to you? Your own family and wife are all ganging up against you just because I am dating Draco Malfoy,_ Harry thought and looking at his family and friends, he smiled.

“We’re good then?” he asked, wanting the reassurance that he was still part of the family and very much welcome at the Burrow whenever he wanted. In his heart, he knew that nothing had changed between them but he wanted to hear the words, wanted comfort.

“We’re good.”

Molly and Hermione nodded in unison and Harry didn’t bother to look at Ginny. She had already proven to him that she had his back.

Swallowing a sigh, Harry looked at Ron and wondered exactly how long it would take Ron to come around to the idea of him dating Draco Malfoy.

Would it be like their fourth year where Ron hadn’t spoken to him for weeks?

Harry really hoped not; they weren’t teenagers anymore. Surely, Ron would get over it within a week or two at the most.

 _One can only hope_ , Harry told himself and slowly rose to his feet.

“I suppose I should go,” he mumbled as he rounded the dinner table.

He approached the small table where Arthur was still entertaining Teddy and desperate for a hug, Harry knelt in front of Teddy and wordlessly pulled his godson into his arms. He rose to his feet and hugged Teddy as tight as he possibly could without crushing him.

Teddy’s response was simple and innocent and Harry’s heart nearly burst right out of his chest with happiness.

He wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck and his legs around Harry’s waist and clung so tight that it hurt. It was the best kind of pain and Harry relished in it.

“You are the best,” Harry whispered into Teddy’s ear and ruffling his godson’s hair, he chuckled when it turned black underneath his touch. “I love you, my little man.”

“I love you too, Harry,” Teddy mumbled into his neck and Harry squeezed him a little tighter.

Harry really didn’t want to let him go. Instead, he wanted to take him home to Grimmauld Place and tuck him into his bed in the room Harry always had ready and waiting for him. He was, however, aware that Teddy had school tomorrow and that he wouldn’t be able to abduct Teddy, no matter how much he wanted to. Molly would never let him.

“You’ll be good for me, won’t you?” Harry asked as he gently put Teddy down.

Teddy only reluctantly let go of him and stared at him with soft light-brown eyes.

“Of course, I will,” he nodded.

Harry kissed his forehead. He highly doubted that Teddy would be really all that good, he was a child and a bit of a rowdy boy after all, but the promise to do so was enough for Harry. Especially, because Teddy wasn’t an overly naughty child at all. He was cheeky but he was a good kid.

“Good. I’ll make some time for you the weekend after next and maybe we can go somewhere fun.”

Harry smiled and ruffling Teddy’s hair, he delighted in watching his godson’s face light up with excitement at the promise of _Harry-Teddy-Bonding-Time_. He turned his attention to Arthur, who so far hadn’t said a word, and was about to open his mouth when Arthur beat him to it.

“As long as you’re happy, Harry,” he said supportively, leaning forward to pat his back. Harry gave him a grateful smile, then said his goodbyes and left the Burrow, feeling a lot less anxious than he had when he had arrived.


	24. Two Silken Ties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)  
> 
> 
> And thus it begins...or continues. Whichever way you want to look at it. I hope you enjoy this very important part of the story’s plot.

* * *

Harry rose from the sofa and pulled his t-shirt over his head with practised ease.

He noted Draco’s rather appreciative look and deliberately took his sweet time as he reached for Draco’s belated birthday present — an extremely soft dark-green Merino wool jumper that was just perfect for early to mid-autumn — which he had just unwrapped.

With the jumper in hand, Harry leant forward, braced himself on the back of the sofa and brought his lips within inches of Draco’s. There he lingered and relished in the way Draco’s breathing grew slightly laboured. His eyes sparkled with anticipation of what Harry might or might not do next.

Closing the small gap between them, Harry pressed his lips against Draco’s in a sweet kiss but moved away before Draco had the chance to reciprocate.

He trailed a series of light kisses alongside Draco’s jaw but stopped when he reached Draco’s earlobe. He nipped at it and when Draco shuddered beneath him, he smirked and pressed his mouth to Draco’s ear.

“Like what you see?”

“Yes,” Draco breathed shakily.

“Want to touch?”

Harry teased a little more and glancing down at Draco’s hands he found them splayed out over his thighs; an attempt to ground himself.

“Yes.”

“Ask me.”

Harry pushed and pulled back. He watched as Draco bit his lip, clearly in two minds about whether to ask for what he wanted or not. Harry waited patiently.

Ordinarily, he would prompt again, would make sure that his voice was firm and unwavering but he didn’t with Draco. Instead, he gave him all the time in the world, let him decide whether he wanted to ask or not.

Several moments of silence passed but eventually, Draco stopped hesitating and looking right at Harry, he smiled softly.

“Please, may I touch you?”

His voice was low, barely a whisper even, and the faint flush that graced his cheeks made Harry’s heart flutter with excitement.

Harry nodded.

“You may.”

Draco responded with placing his warm hands on his bare hips and squeezed gently. Harry temporarily abandoned trying the new jumper on and braced both his hands on the backrest of the sofa behind Draco’s shoulders, then moved to straddle Draco’s thighs.

Draco’s fingertips trailed up and down his sides and across his taut stomach then up to his nipples, which he teased with such a gentle caress that Harry couldn’t help but let his eyes fall closed and his head fall back.

A moment later Draco pressed his mouth to his chest, peppered it with tiny warm kisses and when he sucked one of his nipples into his mouth and repeatedly flicked his tongue over it, Harry moaned in appreciation.

The feeling was too good not to encourage Draco to keep going.

Draco’s hands found their way to his thighs and squeezing gently, he paused his assault on Harry, who opened his eyes and looked down at him.

“Put the jumper on. Please, I want to see.”

Harry smirked.

“And here was I thinking you were about to take my jeans off too, instead you’re giving me orders,” he chuckled.

Draco rolled his eyes. Harry reached for the jumper and slipping his arms into the long sleeves, he poked his head through and pulled it down over his torso. It fitted like a glove, like a second layer of skin, and moulded perfectly against his body. He moved off Draco’s lap, stood up and gently tugging at the jumper, he pulled it into place and marvelled at its softness. He knew that Merino wool was the finest and softest sheep’s wool around but he had never known it to feel quite this soft. It was exquisite.

“I had it infused with some protective charms, well actually I put the charms on it myself,” Draco said.

He looked up at Harry and smiled softly, warmly. He hadn’t moved from his spot on the sofa and his bare feet were toying with the shaggy carpet while he’d moved his hands back to his thighs, letting them rest there.

 “Oh?” Harry asked curiously.

“Just a couple of shield charms to help lessen the impact of the most common offensive spells,” Draco said. “You’ll still need your wand and a decent set of defensive charms though.”

Harry chuckled and trailing his hand down his chest, he took another moment to marvel at the softness of the jumper. Holding his hand out for Draco to take, he pulled him to his feet and into his arms and as Draco wrapped his arms around his waist, Harry rested his arms on top of Draco’s shoulders.

“You do like me in Slytherin colours, don’t you?” he teased.

He’d had slipped into a pair of silver-grey jeans this morning before meeting Draco for a lazy but luxurious brunch at a small coffee shop near Draco’s flat in Notting Hill.

“Makes your eyes stand out,” Draco shrugged.

Harry laughed heartily.

“Yes, you would say that.”

“It’s true, green looks ridiculously good on you.”

“Thank you.”

Harry cupped Draco’s chin he drew him into a kiss.

“Thank you, my little prince, I love your birthday gift.”

“I’m glad you do.”

Draco smiled shyly. Harry tightened his hold on him, thoroughly enjoying having Draco in his arms.

They stood like that for a while, just hugging and Harry took great pleasure in the way Draco buried his face in his chest. He kept inhaling deeply and it almost felt like he was trying to draw strength from him. Harry let his fingertips trail up and down Draco’s spine and absorbed every single one of his small shivers, held him just that little bit tighter, that little bit closer.

When Draco eventually pulled away, Harry was reluctant to let him go. Draco looked at him, his eyes slightly darker than before. A shy smile ghosted around the edges of his mouth and his gaze flickered back and forth between Harry’s and the floor.

Harry instantly recognised the action for what it was, the desire, though shrouded in insecurity, to want to submit. He had seen it several times before and reaching out, he tenderly ran his fingers through Draco’s soft hair and smiled when Draco tilted his head to the side to push into the touch. His eyes fluttered closed and he clearly enjoyed the sweet caress. Harry wanted to tell him to kneel, wanted to see what Draco would do but bit the inside of his mouth and said nothing.

“I have another birthday present for you,” Draco said quietly.

A light flush crept onto his cheeks.

Harry smiled.

“You do?”

Draco nodded.

“Can you— Can you give me fifteen minutes, then come upstairs?”

“Sure,” Harry said.

Unable to resist, he pulled Draco into a slow kiss, then resolutely stepped back, and moved to sit on the sofa.

“I’ll wait, patiently,” he promised.

Draco gave a nervous chuckle, then turned on his heel and disappeared upstairs.

Once alone, Harry shuffled to the edge of the sofa, and grabbing a handful of fresh green grapes from the fruit bowl, he popped one into his mouth and glanced at his watch, taking note of the time.

He was quite intrigued about what Draco had planned and it took him most of his willpower not to let his devious mind get the better of him. Repeatedly scolding his thoughts, which were trying to run away with him, he reminded himself to get a grip. He munched on yet another grape and was about to reach for this morning’s copy of The Prophet when half the title of a book caught his attention — _Yes, Sir._

Curious, Harry nudged the wizarding newspaper aside and smirked as he read the full title — _Yes, Sir, A Journey into Submission._

He was quite familiar with the book, had read it himself some time ago, but was rather surprised to find it lying on Draco’s coffee table. He picked it up and leafing through it, he noted the page Draco had bookmarked. He skimmed over the chapter, Draco had yet to read, then lowered the book and smiled.

 _My gorgeous little prince, you truly are a devious dark horse_ , he thought and as he closed the book again, he couldn’t help but feel just a little proud as he thought back to his and Draco’s conversation over the previous weekend.

They had barely scratched the surface with that conversation but Harry had no doubt that Draco was clearly fascinated — and bold — enough to investigate the matter on his own.

Wanting to know as much as possible was Draco’s instinct, fuelled by his love for his profession and how brilliant he was at getting to the bottom of things.

 _I’d like to get your bottom_ , Harry cheekily mused.

He let out a low chuckle, then dutifully placed the book back on the coffee table and pulled The Prophet on top of it. He found himself impatiently glancing at his watch and realising that he still had ten minutes to kill before he could follow Draco upstairs, he rose to his feet and paced the room.

Feeling just a little too hot, Harry took the jumper off and put his t-shirt back on. He folded the jumper neatly and placed it back inside the black box it had come in. He left the lid off the box and tugging his t-shirt into place, he moved to stand in front of the window and looked down onto the street below.

It was quiet outside and Harry suspected that most Londoners were probably enjoying ice-cream and a spot of sunshine in the park. He had been about to suggest the same but Draco had beaten him to it by telling him that he had a second birthday gift for him.

He found Draco’s secrecy rather alluring and captivated by it, Harry sighed softly and turned his back on the window. He leant against the windowsill and finally gave in to the temptation to imagine just what Draco was up to upstairs.

He let his thoughts run wild for a few minutes but because it did him no good, he banished any and all kinky ideas that had crept into his conscious mind.

Another glance at his watch told him that he still had five minutes to go and his ill-placed impatience made him frown.

Annoyed, he reprimanded himself and took a few calming deep breaths.

Heading into the kitchen, Harry poured himself half a glass of water and slowly sipping on it, he smiled as he remembered the book, he had discovered on Draco’s coffee table.

It made him think of another book, he thought Draco might enjoy reading. He frowned for a moment as he tried to recall the title but after a bit of racking his brain, he remembered it — _Under His Hand, I Blossom._

The book Draco was reading now dealt with different types of submission and included the thoughts and experiences of several submissives. The book, Harry had in mind, was a collection of erotic stories that explained spanking and submission in a rather playful yet informative way. He briefly wondered whether he had a copy of the book at home but soon decided that the easiest way to get Draco a copy of the book was to pop into _Pleasure_ and order several books for Draco to poke his nose into — in his own time, of course.

Harry set his now empty water glass down on the worktop and realised that the fifteen minutes, Draco had asked for, were finally up.

Deviously deciding to let Draco hang for another two minutes, Harry remained right where he was and folded his arms over his chest as he waited patiently.

The knowledge that Draco was upstairs, squirming, wondering where he was, pleased him immensely but deciding not to overdo it, he eventually pushed off the kitchen worktop and unfolding his arms, he casually made his way upstairs.

He found the bedroom door closed and a note pinned to it. He read it and smiled at Draco’s choice of words.

* * *

> _Harry, I trust you._
> 
> _But—_
> 
> _Please handle with care, I bruise easily._
> 
> _D._

* * *

_Oh, I’ll handle you with the utmost care, my sweet little prince_ , Harry thought and raised his hand to knock on the door.

“Come in,” Draco called out.

Turning the doorknob, Harry pushed the door open and smirked at the sight that greeted him. Draco had drawn the curtains in the room and dimmed the lights a little, though it was still bright enough for Harry to see clearly.

He was completely naked and casually lounging in the centre of the bed with one leg bent at the knee. His pose effectively concealed his crotch from Harry’s view, making it impossible for him to discern whether Draco was hard or not.

Two silken ties, one green and one grey, hung loosely from his neck and Draco was casually toying with them, a coy smile playing around his lips.

 _Someone wants to play_ , Harry thought and stepping further into the room, he closed the door behind him, then leant back against it and crossed his arms over his chest. He watched as Draco pulled both ties from around his neck and extending his hand, he shyly offered them to Harry.

“I thought _Sir_ might like the honour,” Draco whispered.

Harry smiled.

 _I would most definitely like the honour_ , he mused and pushing himself away from the door, he walked over to the bed. He took the silken ties from Draco, grabbed Draco’s bent leg, and straightened it. Draco did not resist him which pleased Harry quite a lot.

The sight of Draco’s erection made him lick his lips in appreciation. He trailed a single finger from Draco’s big toe, all the way up his leg and straight to the place where his thigh met with his hip, then shuffled further up the bed and delighted in the way Draco’s breath hitched and his stomach muscles quivered underneath the taut skin.

Straddling Draco’s thighs, Harry toyed with the silken ties and smiled at Draco as he let them run through his fingers, marvelling at their smoothness. He had no doubt that they were one hundred per cent silk — only the best.

“What exactly would you like me to do with these?” Harry asked with a seductive twinkle in his eyes and teased Draco’s cock with the soft silk.

Draco’s breathing hitched up another notch and Harry winked suggestively.

“Personally, I can think of so many things I could do with these beautiful ties, my little prince,” he whispered.

He paused, leant forward and placing one hand on the headboard behind Draco, he steadied himself. He brought his mouth to Draco’s ear and kissed his earlobe, then nibbled at it gently.

“But this is your fantasy, so tell me what you want and I’ll make it happen.”

He murmured right into Draco’s ear, making sure to keep his voice low and husky. Running his free hand through Draco’s soft hair, Harry teased his fingertips along Draco’s neck and down his chest. He circled his thumb over Draco’s nipple and smiled when Draco’s breath quickened as Harry tempted him to give in to his desire to submit.

“Tell me, Draco, tell me what you want,” Harry urged.

His voice was now a little firmer than before and slowly pulling away he placed two fingers underneath Draco’s chin and gently forced it up, making Draco look at him.

“Tell me,” he insisted and Draco bit his lip as his cheeks flushed pink with both arousal and slight embarrassment.

“Tie me up,” he requested.

His voice was barely louder than a laboured breath.

Harry smiled, then leant in and captured Draco’s lips in a tender kiss.

“I’d love to,” he responded.

He pulled away from the kiss and placing the green tie around his neck, Harry reached for Draco’s right hand. It was shaking a little and Harry instinctively ran his thumb over the pulse point on the inside of Draco’s wrist.

“What’s the spell to release these bonds, Draco?” Harry asked, his voice soft and warm.

Draco instantly focused on him and Harry watched as he swallowed once, twice, then opened his mouth to answer the question.

“ _Resolvo_ ,” he said.

Harry nodded with a smile, then leant in to kiss Draco.

“If at any point you want these ties gone, that’s what you’ll say, do you hear me?” Harry prompted.

He was still drawing circles over the inside of Draco’s wrist and continued to do so until Draco nodded. With an encouraging smile, Harry turned his attention to the grey tie in his hand. He cast a wandless extension charm to lengthen the tie, then found the bight of it with frightful ease. He wrapped it twice around Draco’s wrist, just above the joint, leaving enough room to slip a couple of fingers between the tie and Draco’s wrist.

“Are you going to tie it just like in the book you showed me?” Draco asked.

Harry smiled and winked at him.

“Yes, not quite as elaborate though,” he replied.

He crossed the bight over the working ends of the tie, then tucked it underneath all the makeshift ropes. Next, he made a loop with the working ends and pulled the bight right through, creating a simple knot. He then created another knot in the same way and pulled it tight, ensuring that the silk that wound its way around Draco’s wrist did not overlap. He also made sure that the knot was on the outside of Draco’s wrist and tugging on the tie, he brought Draco’s hand up to his lips and kissed each finger tenderly.

“Beautiful,” he whispered.

He placed one final kiss on the palm of Draco’s hand, then gently moved Draco’s bound wrist to rest it against the headboard. One practised knot later and he had secured Draco’s right wrist to the headboard.

“OK?” Harry asked.

Draco experimentally tugged on the tie.

“I can still wriggle around in it.”

“Hm, yes you can, but you can’t slip your hand out of it. I want to restrain you, not cut off your blood circulation and cause nerve damage,” Harry said.

He pulled the green tie from around his neck, cast an extension charm on that one too and found the bight of the tie. He held it in his hand and instead of simply taking Draco’s hand he asked for it.

“Will you give me your left hand, Draco?”

Draco hesitated for a moment, then gave Harry a small nod and offered him his wrist. Harry placed a kiss on the back of Draco’s hand.

“Such a good boy you are,” he whispered encouragingly, then swiftly restrained Draco’s left hand in the same way he had restrained his right hand.

“OK?” he asked again.

Draco nodded and Harry sat back on his haunches. He placed both hands on top of Draco’s naked chest and caressed the warm skin beneath his hands tenderly.

“Now that you can’t escape, what do you reckon I should do with you?” he mused aloud, deliberately teasing Draco and building his anticipation.

“Up to you, _Sir_ ,” Draco whispered softly.

Harry didn’t quite manage to control the shudder of excitement that surged through him but was dexterous enough to keep his slight lapse of control off his face and out of his voice.

“Any preference?” he asked with a smirk.

Draco mutely shook his head.

“Oh, my sweet one, you haven’t got a clue what you’re doing to my sanity, have you? Full control _and_ a nearly endless list of ideas to choose from…” Harry whispered.

He took his t-shirt off, haphazardly flung it onto the floor beside the bed and leant forward to capture Draco’s lips in a slow, deep, mind-twisting kiss. He ran the tip of his tongue over Draco’s lips and parting them he plunged his own inside and sought out its counterpart, then curled his tongue around Draco’s and stroked and caressed with the utmost care, treating Draco as though he was a fragile custom-made piece of glass.

Draco’s breathing grew laboured and Harry could feel him writhe a little underneath him. He couldn’t help but wonder whether Draco was itching to touch him.

When he pulled away from the kiss, he noted the way that Draco was flexing his fingers and had his answer.

 _Yes_ , Draco most definitely wanted to touch him.

Intertwining his fingers with Draco’s, he squeezed gently and peppered Draco’s lips with tiny kisses but always pulled away when Draco attempted to deepen the kiss. He ran his fingers along the inside of Draco’s arms, up to his shoulders, down the centre of his chest, over his stomach, and along his sides, which twitched underneath his touch, then resolutely pulled away and sat back on his haunches.

“A few rules first, little prince,” he said softly.

He paused and waited for Draco to look at him, though only after blinking several times to focus. “Rule number one, do not come without my permission, otherwise I might have to flip you over and leave a few bite marks on your sexy arse. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” Draco nodded.

Harry smiled.

“Good. Second rule and this is the most important one, if at any point you want me to stop, you know the spell. _Resolvo_. The bonds will fall right off you. Don’t hesitate to use it, and don’t play brave and try to handle what you can’t. You pushing yourself past what you can take does not give me any pleasure at all. Understood?”

Draco nodded again but Harry shook his head.

“No, Draco, I want to hear you say it, otherwise we will stop right here. Vanilla sex with you is hot too.”

Draco whimpered in protest.

“Say it and I’ll make your wildest dreams come true,” he said with a seductive twinkle in his eyes.

Draco hummed and let his head fall back. Harry gave him a few minutes to gather himself and was pleased to note that Draco’s eyes were clear and focused when he looked at him a moment later.

“I will tell you to stop when it’s too much and I won’t try to push past my limits,” he said softly.

Leaning in, Harry captured Draco’s lips in a warm and very soft kiss.

“That’s my good boy,” he whispered against Draco’s lips but pulled away when Draco tried to deepen the kiss.

Draco keened in protest but Harry merely clicked his tongue.

“I decide when you get a kiss, my little prince.”

Sitting back on his haunches, Harry contemplated for a few moments, unsure where he wanted to take their little game. It wasn’t like he’d had the chance to plan this in advance…

Draco had practically dropped him into the deep end of the pool.

Harry was, however, very good at improvising and thinking back to a conversation he and Draco had had earlier in the week, he smirked.

Shuffling, Harry moved off the bed and stripped his jeans, boxer briefs, and socks off.

Once naked, climbed back onto the back and pushing Draco’s legs apart, he knelt in-between them.

“You really are a sight for sore eyes, Draco. Wrists bound tightly to the headboard, eyes dark with lust and desire, ragged breathing, flexing stomach muscles… Mm, I’m going to have so much fun with you, my little prince.”

Harry caressed Draco’s stomach, his chest, his arms, and his cheeks as he spoke. He captured Draco’s lips in a slow and sensual kiss and when he pulled away Draco looked at him with such shameless hunger shining in his eyes that Harry briefly considered abandoning his devious plan in favour of fucking Draco through the mattress instead.

One deep breath later, he had restrained himself and pressing his lips against Draco’s ear, he breathed hotly and audibly, slowly turning Draco into a quivering mess with the sound of his breathing alone. He drew one, two, three, four low moans from Draco and satisfied, he pulled back, cupped Draco’s chin and made him open his eyes.

“So, Draco Malfoy, tell me, do you take special requests?”

Draco’s eyes widened at the question and staring up at him, he let out a low whine as he tugged on the ties that secured his wrists to the headboard.

“What was that now?” Harry asked with a frown.

“I’m not sure I understood.”

“What special requests?” Draco croaked breathlessly.

Harry shook his head.                         

“No, that’s not how we play this game, my love. The answer is either yes or no,” he told Draco quite firmly.

Sitting back, he watched wave after wave of hesitation flicker across Draco’s face as he tried to make his mind up.

Intrigued, Harry waited patiently for Draco to decide what he wanted. He teased the inside of Draco’s left thigh with his fingertips and brought them dangerously close to Draco’s balls but made sure to never actually touch him. Leaning down, he breathed over the tip of Draco’s leaking, throbbing cock, and watched with delight as it twitched as he tempted Draco into making a bold decision.

“Yes,” Draco breathed.

His entire body trembled from the impact of his decision.

Deciding to reward Draco for being brave and jumping into the unknown, Harry wrapped his lips around Draco’s cock and sucked it into his mouth.

Draco almost instantly tried to thrust up into his mouth, but Harry’s hands were faster. He secured Draco’s hips and pressing them into the mattress, he sucked Draco’s whole length into his mouth, then pulled back and repeated the whole process several times over. His sucks were slow and he was deliberately teasing but he could tell that he was still pushing Draco closer and closer to the edge.

When Draco’s moans grew louder and he struggled to move despite Harry firmly pinning his hips down, Harry pulled away and looking at Draco, he licked his lips.

“You taste so good, you have no idea,” he winked.

He trailed a series of kisses along the inside of Draco’s thigh, nipped at the skin that covered the hipbone, kissed up Draco’s stomach and chest, over his breastbone, and along the side of his neck. There he nipped at the sensitive skin and biting it gently at first, he then sucked it into his mouth. Draco voluntarily tilted his head to the side and exposed his neck to him which Harry rewarded with a rather fierce bite that dragged a low grown from the depths of Draco’s chest.

Nibbling at Draco’s earlobe, Harry flicked his tongue over it and wrapping his fingers around Draco’s hard cock, he stroked the pulsing flesh slowly, agonisingly.

“Share a fantasy with me, something you’ve always wanted to do in bed,” he whispered into Draco’s ear.

He pulled back abruptly to look at Draco’s face. As he had thought, Draco’s eyes had snapped open and he was looking at him with a disbelieving expression.

“Yes, Draco, that’s my special request,” he said softly. “I want to know something about you absolutely nobody else does. Something that’s in your head and your head alone.”

“ _Harry_ —” Draco whined.

Harry watched as his cheeks flushed deeply, turning nearly crimson in colour, and he promptly averted his eyes.

Letting go of Draco’s cock, Harry placed two fingers underneath Draco’s chin and pushed it up, forcing Draco to look at him.

“I didn’t say you could look away, little prince,” he whispered.

He brought his lips closer to Draco’s and placed a feather-light kiss on Draco’s mouth.

“You look quite sexy when you get all flustered, do you know that?”

Draco made a sound that was neither a whine nor a moan but it was most delectable all the same.

Harry chuckled softly.

“Tell you what, Draco, I bet you I can wrangle the fantasy from you. I bet I can make you want to tell me. What do you say, my love, are you up for a challenge, a little battle of wills?”

Harry trailed his fingertips up and down Draco’s chest, then rolled Draco’s nipple between his thumb and forefinger before squeezing just firm enough to cause a bit of discomfort.

“What— What are you— are you going to do— do to me?” Draco moaned.

He blinked several times. Arousal and embarrassment still flushed his face and Harry couldn’t help but smile.

“Now, now, that would be telling. If you want to play, you’ll just have to trust me,” he said with a cheeky wink.

Draco grumbled and glared but eventually, his expression softened and he surrendered.

“Fine, Potter, you win, do your worst.”

“Really?”

Harry’s eyes gleamed with mischief as he pretended to take Draco’s words at face value.

“Really,” Draco nodded.

Harry promptly slipped his hands underneath Draco’s knees and yanked him into a more horizontal position, which forced him to stretch his arms a little. Leaning over Draco, Harry placed both his hands on either side of Draco’s head and bent down. He sucked at Draco’s bottom lip, then bit it gently.

“It’s not very obedient of you to call me Potter, little prince,” he whispered, then bit a little harder until he drew a low whine from Draco.

“Consider that your punishment,” he said with a firm voice, then started a mind-twisting assault on every inch of Draco’s neck, kissing, nipping, biting, and licking.

At the same time his hand found his way back to Draco’s throbbing cock and wrapping his fingers around it, he stroked it. His strokes were maddeningly slow and as Draco whimpered and moaned underneath him, he continued to kiss along Draco’s left clavicle and bit the soft sensitive flesh near Draco’s armpit.

Harry’s hand left Draco’s cock and teasing his balls instead, he found Draco’s nipple and grazing it with his teeth, he licked it, then bit it, and finally sucked it into his mouth. Draco’s groans grew louder and more wanton and Harry paused his assault for a moment and looked up at Draco.

“Want to tell me yet?” he asked.

Draco vehemently shook his head.

“I see,” Harry smirked. “This is going to be harder than I thought. Hm, maybe the use of a little magic will persuade you.”

Stretching his hand out, Harry summoned his wand from the floor, and wrapping his fingers around it, he whispered a spell he had previously used on Draco. He made sure to utter the words just loud enough for Draco to catch them. He knew that Draco did not know the spell but he also knew that Draco’s understanding of spell theory was good enough to allow him to guess exactly what the spell would do to him.

“This time it’s only a toned-down version, my love, I do want you to have a fighting chance,” he chuckled with a devious glint in his eyes.

Draco attempted a glare but Harry wrapped his hand around his cock and gave it a firm stroke. The spell intensified the sensation and Draco scrunched up his face and moaned.

“Harry—” he whimpered.

“Yes, my love? Got something to tell me?”

“Fu—”

“Careful now, I _will_ spank you if you finish that word,” Harry warned.

In response, Draco whined but pursed his lips and resolutely remained silent.

Stroking a little faster, Harry continued his assault on Draco’s body, and working his way to his belly button, he plunged his tongue inside and swirled it around, then bit the sensitive skin just above and below.

Draco groaned and trembled, the sensation once again amplified by the spell, Harry had cast, although only marginally so. Stroking harder and firmer, Harry relentlessly teased Draco and brought him right to the brink of his orgasm, then pulled him back with a rough bite to the inside of his thigh.

Draco yelped and moaned and Harry chuckled as he surveyed the whimpering, writhing mess he had turned Draco into.

 _So gorgeous_ , he thought.

“Ready to share yet?” he asked.

Draco’s response was an incomprehensible jumbled mess of words that sounded like a lengthy refusal to cooperate.

Since it didn’t seem like Draco was ready to share yet, Harry continued his onslaught. He was thoroughly enjoying turning Draco into an incoherent mess of limbs that refused to cooperate with Draco’s brain.

Deciding to replace his hand, Harry sucked Draco’s cock into his mouth and swallowing the whole length, he ran his fingernails up and down the inside of Draco’s thighs, taking pleasure in the way Draco’s legs trembled beneath his touch.

He kept Draco’s hips firmly pressed into the mattress and sucked on Draco’s hard cock as though he was enjoying his favourite popsicle. Within minutes, Draco’s moans turned into loud and unrestrained groans as he continued to mutter entirely unintelligible nonsense.

Harry smiled around Draco’s cock and sucked that little bit harder. Working him into a frenzy, Harry pushed him right to the edge only to expertly pull him back.

Draco very nearly screamed. The frustration, Harry knew he felt, was evident on his face, in his eyes and in his voice.

Crawling up Draco’s body, Harry hovered above his face and felt a strong tug of love as he looked at Draco’s contorted face and watched him writhe in the throes of pleasure.

“Look at me,” he whispered.

Several moments passed before Draco found the willpower to open his eyes.

“I’m not done with you yet, my little prince, I’ve still got a few tricks up my sleeve,” Harry smiled devilishly.

Shuffling, he pulled the top drawer of Draco’s nightstand open and reached inside. He felt for the bottle of lube, pulled it out and dangled it in front of Draco’s face.

“Two choices, you can either end the game or you can share a fantasy with me. The choice is entirely yours but you won’t get to come before you make a decision,” he said.

Since Draco looked like he was about to object, Harry kissed him. It was an open-mouthed, ravenous sort of kiss. It was hot and long and hard and greedy and completely possessive. He drew all air from Draco’s lungs and when he pulled away, Draco was a panting, wide-eyed trembling wreck.

“Beautifully debauched, so utterly beautiful, you take my breath away, Draco,” Harry whispered.

Not giving Draco a moment to recover, he momentarily changed his plans. He placed the bottle of lube on the bed and forced Draco’s legs apart. He pushed them firmly against Draco’s chest and running the flat of his hands up and down the inside of Draco’s thighs, he kissed Draco’s leaking hot prick. He lavished his sensitive balls with a copious amount of attention, then paused to mumble a quick cleaning spell that he knew sent a shiver through Draco.

“Are you absolutely sure you don’t want to share?” Harry asked one last time.

Draco defiantly pursed his lips.

“Very well,” Harry said.

With a low chuckle, he pulled Draco’s buttocks apart and exposed his tight, puckered hole. He licked his lips appreciatingly and looking up at Draco, he winked and lowering his head, he gave Draco’s hole a long firm lick.

Draco groaned and Harry could feel him tremble. He repeated the action several times over, then circled the tip of his tongue over the firm muscle, feeling it flex beneath his insistent tongue. His spit coated Draco’s hole wonderfully and withdrawing a little, Harry blew cool air over the heated slick skin. He watched and felt Draco shiver, heard him moan and continuing his assault on Draco’s arse, he prepared to rim him within an inch of his life.

Lowering his head again, Harry dug his fingers into Draco’s legs, keeping them pushed against his chest, keeping them spread as far apart as he possibly could.

He plunged his tongue right into Draco’s hole, forcing it past the tight muscle, forcing his sphincter to give away and allow him to slip inside.

Draco groaned and whimpered and made the most beautiful sounds as Harry mercilessly thrust his tongue in and out, teasing the extremely sensitive bundle of nerves around Draco’s entrance. The tight ring of muscles quivered and loosened further and Draco moaned louder. It sounded almost as if he was begging, though not in as many words, and spurred on by the truly delightful sounds Draco was making, Harry continued his assault on Draco’s most private part.

A simple ancient rune, drawn onto the inside of Draco’s thigh with his index finger, increased the effectiveness of the spell, he had cast earlier, and setting a hard and fast rhythm, Harry thrust his tongue as deep into Draco’s arse as he could, then pulled back, licked over his hole, circled the dark furrowed skin with the tip of his tongue, then thrust back into Draco, pushing him to the edge.

Draco panted and writhed and moaned and shuddered and trembled and shook and as much as Harry wanted to take him all the way, to push him over the edge and give an earth-shattering orgasm, he didn’t. He stopped, pulled away and licking his lips, he deviously left Draco tethering on the edge, left him hanging inches away from a mind-blowing, toe-curling rapturous orgasm ripping through him.

“ _Ngh_ , _Harry_ ,” Draco whimpered.

He sounded desperate.

With a low chuckle, Harry moved up Draco’s body. He looked down at Draco and smiled, then leant down and trailed a series of kisses along Draco’s jaw until he reached his earlobe. He nibbled on it, flicked his tongue over it and eventually pressed a lingering kiss to it.

“Tell me,” he coaxed.

“Tell me, and I’ll make you feel so, so good. Tell me, and I’ll let you come so hard you’ll be seeing stars until it’s time for dinner. Tell me, and I’ll fill you with my cock, rub that sweet spot of nerves deep inside you and twist your cock until you cover me with your juices. Then I’ll lick them off you and swallow every drop.”

Harry was entirely unabashed about the filthiness of his words.

He pulled away slightly and looked at Draco, really looked at him. His eyes were nearly black, his flushed cheeks were a deep shade of red and he had parted his trembling lips ever so slightly to help him breathe. He was also worrying his bottom lip and Harry could tell that Draco’s entire body was on fire. It wouldn’t take much more to send him over the edge into blissful oblivion.

For that Draco was too close, too high-strung, too turned on.

Everything about Draco told Harry that he did not want to end the game but that he was embarrassed to share an intimate fact about himself. Since this was all still relatively new to Draco, Harry decided to try a different approach altogether. He pressed a rather chaste yet affectionate kiss against Draco’s flushed cheek and letting his hips fall forward he let out a low groan as his erection rubbed against Draco’s cock. A small shudder surged through him and he repeatedly rolled his hips, indulging in the feeling of his cock sliding effortlessly against Draco’s cock.

“I want you to come up to my office wearing nothing but your prosecutor’s robes and holding several long jute ropes. I want you to let me sprawl you out over my desk, push your ropes apart and tie your wrists to your ankles to keep you spread open for me, to give me access to every inch of your body. I want to sink my hard cock into your tight hole and fuck you into my desk until your world turns upside down and you beg me to let you come,” Harry whispered into Draco’s ear, filling his head with a fantasy of his own.

He heard Draco moan and felt him arch his back.

Abruptly pulling back, he stopped rolling his hips, stopped frotting Draco, then lifted his head. He stared down at Draco, kept his eyes firmly locked on Draco’s glazed orbs and smiled.

 _One, two, three,_ he counted the seconds until Draco relented. Until he decided that he couldn’t take this sweet torture any longer. By the time Harry had reached six, Draco cleared his throat and spoke softly. His voice was barely a whisper and his face nearly crimson.

“The living room window, where you kissed me for the first time,” he mumbled breathlessly.

Harry redistributed his body weight. Bracing himself on one arm, he reached for the bottle of lube and opened it, skilfully pouring a generous amount over his fingers. Some of it ran onto the bed, but Harry couldn’t care less. Instead, he moved his fingers to Draco’s hole and ghosted over it, making it and Draco quiver.

“Continue,” he encouraged with a warm smile.

“I— I— I want you— I want you to fuck me— fuck me in front of the window, my hands— my hands braced on the windowsill— bend over for you— your hands— hands on my— my—”

Harry slipped a single finger past the tight ring of muscle and entered Draco, moving his finger rhythmically back and forth.

“My hands doing what?” he asked.

“Your hands— your hands on my— my hips, grip—gripping ha—hard.”

Draco struggled to remain coherent now and Harry pushed a second finger into him and increased the speed of his thrusts but refrained from brushing against Draco’s prostate.

“What else?” Harry asked.

“I want— want— wa—want the curtains open, so— so— so I c—can look out, while— while you fu—fuck me.”

“That’s sounds hot. What if the neighbours see?” Harry asked.

Withdrawing his fingers from Draco’s arse, he grabbed his cock, gave it a few strokes, then positioned it at Draco’s hole and pushed inside in one swift motion. Draco groaned and grimaced at the sudden stretch and the piercing pain — Harry hadn’t been exactly gentle though he could tell that Draco didn’t exactly mind.

He sucked in a sharp breath, attempted to breathe through the pain and eventually Harry felt him relax a little, felt him adjust.

“S—sod the neighbours.”

Draco shuddered and his eyes slid closed as Harry ever so slightly moved inside of him.

“Bold. My little prince is bold. Is there more to that fantasy, my love?”

“ _Ngh_ ,” Draco mewled.

“Y—ye—yes. I want y—you t—to ho—hold me so t—tight you’ll leave bruises, I w—want you t—to take me, f—fuck me, b—bi—bite down on my shoulder, m—ma—make me sc—scream your name again and again and again.”

Draco continued his confession and Harry fucked into him, slowly, deliberately, teasingly. He brushed Draco’s prostate once and Draco’s entire body trembled beneath him as he moaned and tore at his restraints.

“Is it just a fantasy or do you want me to make it come true?” Harry whispered and thrust a little harder.

Draco merely keened in response and his mouth dropped open, his back arched and his toes curled against Harry’s thighs.

“P—pl—pl—please.”

He begged deliriously and at this stage, Harry wasn’t sure what exactly Draco was asking for. Was he asking for that fantasy to come true? Was he asking for Harry to fuck him rougher harder faster? Did he want those bruises now?

Ordinarily, Harry would stop, would remain sheathed deeply inside Draco, would hold still until Draco clarified his answer.

This time he, however, refrained from doing so.

Instead, he pulled back and thrust into Draco, thrust hard and claiming.

Draco groaned and Harry captured his lips in a deep passionate open-mouthed kiss. One of his hands found its way to Draco’s hip and squeezing with the intention to bruise, he angled for Draco’s prostate on his next thrust and the one after that and the next and all the others that followed.

“You’ve been so good, you’ve taken all my teasing, you’ve held out, you gave me what I wanted, my little prince, you deserve a treat.”

Harry whispered the words against Draco’s now swollen lips and kissed him again, roughly, hungrily, and desperate.

“Come for me, Draco, come for me, I want to feel your come splash against my skin, I want to feel you clench around my cock, drawing me in, I want to hear you scream my name as you come,” Harry urged and as his words slowly washed over Draco.

He watched with gleeful excitement as realisation slowly dawned on Draco and the moment it did, Draco’s entire body convulsed and he shuddered and shook as his orgasm tore through him so violently that all Draco managed was a strangled sort of croak that was neither a groan nor a recognisable version of Harry’s name.

Nonetheless, Harry thought, _you look so fucking gorgeous, I want to savour this moment and all others for all eternity_.

Withdrawing from Draco’s tight channel, Harry thrust back inside, felt Draco’s come splash against his skin, and hitting Draco’s prostate several times over, he prolonged his orgasm, then felt his own body tense. He came on a hot, all-consuming excruciatingly intense wave of something quite overwhelming. His body quaked and as he followed Draco over the edge, he couldn’t help but seek out Draco’s neck and sink his teeth into the hot, flushed, and salty skin to muffle his own groan.

Several moments passed before Harry found the energy to move but since he was acutely aware of the fact that Draco appeared to be half-delirious and in a euphoric state of incoherency, he forced himself into action.

Shuffling, he moved his tired limbs, pulled out of Draco, waved his hand in a swishing motion to remove the silk ties that kept him bound to the bed and then helped him into a more comfortable position. He spooned around Draco, offered him one arm up as a pillow and sneaking the other around Draco’s waist, he held him tight.

He peppered Draco’s shoulder with tiny kisses and too exhausted and unfocused to attempt any other wandless magic, Harry held his hand out and summoned his wand. Gripping it tightly, he ended the spell he had cast over Draco, cast a cleaning charm over them both and the bed and pulling Draco’s trembling form tighter into his arms, he also mumbled a mild warming charm to engulf them both in a cocoon of warmth.

Draco sighed softly, mumbled something completely unintelligible and pushed back and into Harry’s embrace. He had his eyes firmly squeezed shut, his chest heaved and his body was a boneless heap of limbs. Harry pressed a chaste kiss between Draco’s shoulder blades, tightened his hold on him and allowed his eyes to fall closed but vowed to only allow himself a few minutes of rest before heading downstairs to prepare a sweet snack for Draco once he woke up.

“You rock my world.”

The words were barely audible. They were more of a breathless whisper but Harry’s ears had still caught them and grinning into Draco’s back, he responded first with a kiss, then with an overly romantic declaration of love of his own.


	25. Showdown In Director Potter's Office

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)
> 
> I’d just like to note that sometimes people have the best of intentions but when emotions get in the way or are involved, things are so much different. So, give everyone a fair chance and don’t make up your mind too soon.

* * *

About two weeks later, Harry returned to his office, after a successful raid with several senior members of his Auror team only to find a rather nervous and out-of-place-looking Ron Weasley pacing up and down in front of his desk.

Wand holstered, a thick stack of papers in hand, and scarlet outer robes somewhat carelessly flung over his arm, Harry stepped into his office, kicked the door shut and greeted Ron with a warm, welcoming smile. He hoped that a calm outward appearance might help Ron relax just a little bit since he seemed quite flustered, which wasn’t unlike him but still not a something Harry particularly enjoyed seeing.

“What brings you to my office?” Harry asked as nonchalant as possible.

He draped his robes over the back of his chair and set the pile of paperwork down on top of his desk, then slumped into his seat, relishing in the softness of the cushions beneath his buttocks and behind his back. He stretched his legs out underneath the desk and reached for a bottle of half-finished pumpkin juice, he brought with him from the Ministry canteen this morning. He hadn’t had lunch yet and while he was starving, he wanted to give Ron a few minutes of his time to explain his presence, even though Harry was well able to hazard a fairly accurate guess.

Ron stood awkwardly in front of his desk and the expression on his face screamed, _this was a bad idea, where’s the nearest Apparition Point, damnit why did I leave the Aurors, if I hadn’t I could just apparate right out of here_. He looked ready to bolt and Harry couldn’t help but wonder whether drawing his wand and flicking it at the door to cast a locking charm might be a good idea. Despite his rather childish thoughts, Harry was mature enough not to follow through and unscrewing the lid of his bottle of pumpkin juice, he brought the bottle to his lips, fixed his gaze on Ron, hesitated for a moment, then took a few sips.

“Sit down already, Ron. I’m not your professor and you aren’t in trouble for snogging Hermione in the girls’ bathroom,” he said.

Sometimes he was just a little exasperated over the fact that Ron had the amazing talent to act like a fifteen-year-old teenager instead of the rather responsible husband and loving father he was.

A few moments — during which Harry absolutely wanted to hex his best friend — passed before Ron finally decided to accept the invitation to sit and occupied one of the two chairs in front of Harry’s desk. He plonked himself down rather ungracefully and placed his clasped hands in his lap.

“Is this a social visit or have you come to renounce our friendship?” Harry asked.

Ron vehemently shook his head.

Harry fought the urge to point out to Ron that _yes_ or _n_ o was not the appropriate answer for a _this_ or _that_ question but resolutely swallowed the desire to reprimand his best friend — Ron got enough of this kind of treatment from Hermione. She had a rather serious penchant for correct grammar although Harry was sure that the reason, she corrected her husband was because it meant she got a rise out of him. Anytime she did it, it always ended with a squabble which inevitably ended with a kiss which was when Harry would turn around and pretend to find his fingernails utterly interesting.

“I’ve done a bit of thinking,” Ron finally spoke, somewhat hesitantly.

“And, well, I’ve come to the conclusion that I was a bit of an arse to you on your birthday, when you— when you told us about, about dating the fer—, I mean, dating Malfoy.”

Harry smirked.

He emptied the bottle of pumpkin juice and screwing the lid back on, he set it down on his desk but instead of letting it go, he absent-mindedly toyed with the label. He knew that this was as good an apology as he was going to get from Ron. He also knew that while the words were coming from Ron’s mouth, Hermione had most likely whipped them into him after giving him several stern reprimands.

 _Literally whipped?_ Harry’s devious mind asked out of curiosity and while the thought was intriguing, Harry still pushed it aside. There was only so much he wanted to know about his best friends’ sex lives and who spanked who firmly fell into the _shudder-and-change-the-topic-right-away-_ category. Although given the fact that he had — on more than one occasion — helped Ron to purchase sex toys, Harry had to concede that he knew more about Ron’s and Hermione’s sex lives than he should.

“Does that mean you’re okay with me dating Draco?” Harry asked.

He purposefully referred to Draco by his first name, though he did not expect Ron to do the same.

“Do you really love him?”

Ron answered his question with a question of his own and scrunched his face up in disbelief.

With a small sigh, Harry got to his feet and headed over to the tiny kitchenette near the window of his office. Today’s charmed view was of the River Thames. It was a bright and sunny day and it instantly reminded Harry of that time he’d taken Draco on a cruise to celebrate his birthday in style.

Calling his tiny kitchenette, a kitchenette was a bit of a stretch really. It was just a small table with a cupboard hanging above it. Harry drew his wand and tapping it against the kettle, he boiled some water, then procured two mugs and placed a tea bag into each one.

Once the water had boiled, he filled the two mugs and rooting around the cupboard he found an unopened package of chocolate biscuits which he put under his arm. With a tea mug in each hand, he made his way back to his desk and setting one mug down in front of Ron, he kept the other one for himself. He placed the package of chocolate biscuits right in front of Ron, who reached for it, ripped it open and promptly stuffed a biscuit into his mouth.

 _You and Draco have more in common than you’ll ever know,_ Harry mused but thought it wise not to mention to Ron that he and Draco both had a penchant for all things sweet. He didn’t think they’d reached that level of intimacy yet.

“To answer your question, Ron, yes I do. I really love him,” Harry said.

He smiled fondly and wrapping his hands loosely around his tea mug, he blew at the hot liquid to cool it down a little.

“Why?” Ron blurted out.

He instantly turned crimson and corrected himself.

“I mean, how?”

Harry chuckled.

“Why? Many reasons. He’s witty, he’s got an incredible sense of humour, he’s smart, he’s got opinions, he’s fantastic at his job, he’s snarky and sweet. He makes me laugh, and most importantly he doesn’t care that I’m Harry Potter, not like other people do. He’s changed a great deal, Ron. We also have a couple of other things, you most likely don’t want to know about, in common.”

“Are you still talking about Draco Malfoy? The git who made your life a misery? He tried to k—”

“ _Don’t_ , Ron, just don’t,” Harry said.

His voice carried a warning undertone and he sounded a little harsher than he’d originally intended but he had no desire to revisit his memories of Dumbledore’s death or what had happened when he had used Snape’s dark defensive spell on Draco — or anything else that had happened between him and Draco while they’d been at Hogwarts. The boy Draco had been then no longer existed, it was the man he’d become Harry had fallen in love with and he wasn’t about to allow anyone to rain on his parade.

“Take my word for it, Ron, he’s changed, a lot. We’ve made our peace with the past. It doesn’t mean that we don’t fight like cats and dogs sometimes, but he’s exactly what I need and I am what he needs.”

“OK, I’m sorry.”

Ron looked rather apologetic and Harry sighed. He let go of his tea mug, he rubbed his suddenly throbbing temples. His warm hands provided some much-needed relief.

“We can talk about this some other time, when we’re, well, not inside the Ministry.”

Harry attempted to meet Ron halfway. The last he wanted was to scare Ron off when he had only just come to terms with his choice of partner. Harry really couldn’t help but wonder exactly how hard Hermione had worked over the last two weeks to change her husband’s mind. Ron could be a stubborn arse when he really wanted to, that much was a given. Then again, in all the years they’d been friends, Harry had never once blamed Ron for being a headstrong grump. He knew exactly why Ron behaved the way he did — he cared a great deal and couldn’t stomach the idea of losing his best friend. Ron had never actually said those things to him, not directly anyway, but Harry was well able to read between the lines and they’d come to a quiet understanding.

“It’s all right, we don’t have to. If you’re happy, well, then that’s all that really matters.”

Ron managed a somewhat uncomfortable-looking smile and shoved another chocolate biscuit into his mouth, before carefully sipping on his hot tea.

“Are those your words or Hermione’s?”

Harry could quite resist the urge to tease Ron a little. He got a half-hearted glare in return.

“Oi, I can think for myself, _git_.”

“Hm, yes, you just _prefer_ to let ‘Mione take the lead, don’t you?”

Harry continued to tease. He tried his best not to imagine Ron wearing a collar and leash.

 _I should give a set to Hermione for Christmas, I’m sure she would know what to do with it,_ Harry thought but decided that Ron would undoubtedly hex him into oblivion for pulling such a stunt. Then again, the look on his face would most definitely be worth all the trouble.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Ron frowned at him from across the table and Harry wondered whether Ron was playing dumb on purpose.

He was about to answer when his office door swung open with such force that the hinges groaned.

A very red-faced, livid-looking Draco Malfoy burst inside, his black prosecutor’s robes trailing behind him. He briefly reminded Harry of Severus Snape, but he firmly pushed the memory aside and looked on as Draco slammed today’s copy of The Prophet onto his desk.

Draco crossed his arms over his chest and looked like he was seconds away from committing murder.

“Corrupt odious delinquents, the fucking lot of them! That whole article is an ineffable perverse profligacy of paper! The Prophet well and truly is, and always has been, a sickly dissolute excuse for a printed publication and their editorial department is a rank buttock-rimming cesspool of sub-human filth—”

Despite not even halfway through his rant, Draco abruptly fell silent. He had finally realised that Harry had a visitor and flushing a rather lovely shade of red, he uncrossed his arms and dropped them to his sides.

Harry bit the inside of his mouth to stop himself from bursting into ill-placed laughter. When he was in a rage, Draco truly had a way with words and it took Harry every bit of self-control to keep a straight face.

“I’ll just come back later,” Draco said quietly.

The level of his voice was a stark contrast compared to that of a mere thirty seconds ago.

“Stay,” Harry urged gently.

He felt the need to protect Draco wash over him and relished in the fact that Draco had, consciously or not, come to him for help. It was obvious that Draco needed a bit of assistance to come back down from whatever frenzy he had worked himself into and Harry wanted to be the one to be there for him. He felt that it was his duty, given that they were dating and given that he knew a little more about Draco than most people.

Getting out of his office chair, Harry rounded his desk. He walked up to Draco and entirely ignoring Ron for the time being, he reached out and curled his fingers around Draco’s left wrist. He found Draco’s pulse point with practised ease and circling his thumb gently over it, he focused his attention on Draco and Draco alone.

“What happened?” he asked softly.

He purposefully kept his voice low and calming, hoping it would have the desired effect.

When Draco merely growled in response, Harry circled Draco’s pulse point a little more firmly, drawing Draco’s focus to his touch and away from his anger.

“Clueless scoundrels don’t have the first fucking idea about the law but in the name of freedom of speech, they insist on the right to tell the prosecutor’s office how to do their job. If they did that with the Wizengamot Judges the editor-in-chief would be out of a job within a week, scratch that, he would be looking for a new job tomorrow,” Draco snarled.

His facial features softened considerably just a moment later.

“I’m sorry for barging in like that, I really needed to let off some steam.”

His quiet admission made Harry smile.

“You know perfectly well that you can come to my office any time you want to or need to. Feel better now?”

“Yes.”

Draco nodded with a small smile.

“Thank you.”

“I’m glad,” Harry chuckled.

He let go of Draco’s wrist and taking a step back, he reached for the package of chocolate biscuits.

“Sorry Ron, I think my boyfriend needs these more than you do,” he grinned.

He handed the sweet treat to Draco and watched with affection as he snatched the package from him and unashamedly stuffed a whole biscuit into his mouth, then chewed on it with a gleeful expression.

“You really picked the perfect time to pop in, Draco. Ron stopped by to tell me he’s finally come around to the idea of us dating and that he absolutely supports our relationship,” Harry said.

What he hadn’t anticipated though was that his little jest resulted in Ron and Draco glaring at each other with such venomous and cold expressions that Harry shuddered and felt the strong desire to back away. He perched himself on the edge of his desk and looking back and forth between Ron and Draco, he wondered whether he should be drawing his wand, just to be on the safe side. He had an inkling that this wasn’t going to end well.

“Not going to try and hex me again, are you, Weasley?” Draco mocked.

He schooled his expression into one of superior nonchalance.

“You really should give it another try; you did such a spectacular job the last time.”

“Why don’t I just call my wife?” Ron retorted, sounding just as snarky. “If I remember correctly, she has a rather fierce right hook. Tell me, Malfoy, did she break your nose back then? If not, I’m quite certain she would agree to give it another go. You know, do it properly this time.”

“I see, you still need a girl to fight your battles for you then, Weasley?”

Draco sneered.

Without really thinking about it, Harry drew his wand and cast an invisible shield charm between the two of them.

He did so just in time too, because at that comment Ron was out of his chair and on his feet, with his own wand drawn. He pointed it at Draco’s chest and Harry noticed that Draco hadn’t drawn his own wand. He couldn’t help but wonder whether Draco had felt the wave of magic surging through the room as Harry had cast the wordless shield charm. He was also rather surprised to see Draco and Ron react this strongly to being in each other presence — it was mildly worrisome. Then again, Harry conceded, it hadn’t been an arranged meeting and neither one of them had been prepared for it.

“I don’t need my wife to fight my battles for me!”

Ron raised his voice and his face turned red.

Harry wasn’t entirely sure whether it was anger, embarrassment, or a mixture of both.

Draco laughed mockingly, then continued to rile Ron up even further.

“Go on then, Weasley, do your worst. Attack a prosecutor in robes in front of the Director of the Auror Department. I’m sure it’ll go down well for you. I promise you; I’ll have your freckled arse inside one of our holding cells faster than you can even think about Apparating out of here. Oh wait, you’re no longer an Auror, privilege revoked — this will be too easy.”

His conscience reminded Harry that he should probably put a stop to Draco’s taunts before they got completely out of hand but all he could manage was a dirty smirk — this little showdown between his best friend and his boyfriend reminded him a little of their Hogwarts days and how much effort he and Draco had put into despising each other in the most colourful ways possible.

 _What witness?_ he thought devilishly and reprimanded himself for his rather unprofessional thoughts.

At this point, he was, however, pretty sure that Draco most definitely hadn’t noticed the shield charm. He was just that good at playing somebody. After all, it was what he did for a living. Still, Draco’s words seemingly got through to Ron because he slowly lowered his wand and he eventually holstered it again.

“Smart move, Ronald Weasley, you aren’t as quite as dumb as I thought you were.”

Draco nodded with a devious grin. It made Harry wonder where Draco’s submissive side had disappeared to. He was full of sass and everything he said had quite a bit of bite to it.

It was as if his proclivity to surrender had all but vanished and Harry allowed himself a moment to imagine pushing himself off his desk, straightening up and stepping behind Draco to pull him into a tight embrace.

Would Draco yield or would he push him away?

Harry’s fingers itched.

He wanted to find out, wanted it badly, but resolutely controlled himself. He wasn’t about to test Draco’s willingness to submit while Ron was in the room. Draco cared about his privacy, it was the one thing that was most important to him, and Harry had no intention to betray Draco’s trust in him.

“You are vile, Malfoy, I’ve no idea what Harry sees in you,” Ron snapped.

“Ron, Draco, _please_ , we’re not in Hogwarts anymore. You’re acting like teenagers.”

That was the last straw and Harry finally decided to actively step in and looking back and forth between Ron and Draco he sighed softly.

This was ridiculous. He could understand why Draco has gotten riled up so easily. When he’d stormed into his office, he’d already been feeling upset and angry — Harry didn’t blame him for losing his temper at the slightest provocation. Also, Draco wasn’t the type of person who let the chance to rise to the bait go.

What Harry couldn’t quite understand though was why Ron hadn’t managed to control himself just a little bit. Sure, Ron had always had a bit of a temper but since his and Hermione’s wedding, and since becoming a father, he was all talk and no action.

Harry shook his head. Really, Ron and Draco were worse than toddlers.

“Tell _him_ that.”

“Tell _him_ that.”

Ron and Draco said crossly at the same time and Harry laughed.

“I suppose the three of us having drinks tonight is out of the question?” he asked.

He ignored the fact that Draco was glaring daggers at him.

 _You don’t scare me, my little prince, I know how to turn you into putty in my hands,_ he thought but said nothing of the sort.

“I’ve got to get back home to help Hermione with the baby, she’s waiting for me.”

Ron suddenly hastily made up an excuse and although it was believable, Harry knew that it was a feeble attempt to get away. Since Hermione and Ron both worked, Molly usually took care of baby Rose during the day. As such, nobody was waiting for Ron at home. At least not this early in the afternoon.

Harry suppressed the urge to call Ron out on his little white lie but couldn’t resist giving him a pointed look while he crossed his arms over his chest.

Ron answered with a rather apologetic expression and a mildly pathetic shoulder shrug and before Harry could stop him, he had bolted out the door.

“I’ve got a deposition to get to,” Draco muttered hurriedly.

Before Harry could react accordingly, he’d already turned on his heel and was halfway out the door. A second later, he’d also disappeared.

Harry shook his head and for a minute or two, he stood alone in the middle of his office and wondered whether there was any point in going after either Ron or Draco.

He decided that there wasn’t and returning to sitting behind his desk, he grabbed The Prophet to read the drivel about Draco’s latest court case. The trial had, of course, made the front page and while the article was mostly an update on the case in general, it did mention the prosecutor’s office rather unfavourably and Harry absolutely understood why Draco had been so outraged over it. He absent-mindedly reached for an inter-departmental memo and scribbling a note on it, he folded it and sent it off with a half-hearted wave of his wand.

* * *

> _Draco—_
> 
> _We’ll talk tonight._
> 
> _H._

* * *

Deciding that reading the rest of the article would be a waste of his time, Harry binned it and unenthusiastically turned his attention to his paperwork but thoughts about what had transpired between Ron and Draco just now kept distracting him.

His gut instinct told him that Ron had no actual problem with Draco, at least not one he wouldn’t be able to get over. Ron was the kind of person who needed an appropriate amount of time and the right kind of persuasion to adjust to changes.

Harry temporarily abandoned his case files and sitting back in his chair he massaged his sore temples, then steepled his fingers together and rested them underneath his chin. He let out a soft sigh.

It had taken Ron months to accept his move to Canada and Harry still vividly remembered the many Howlers, Ron had sent, trying to somehow understand why Harry had felt the need to up and leave with his makeshift family.

Harry had explained everything, in minute detail even. He’d written so many long letters that his writing hand had cramped for days on end, and eventually, Ron had understood. He’d accepted that moving halfway across the globe had been something Harry had needed after the war, that it has been his way of distancing himself from the aftermath of everything, his way of licking his wounds and finally taking a bit of time for himself.

 _If he can accept you leaving the country for five years, he can accept you dating Draco Malfoy_ , a little voice inside of him, that sounded strangely like Charlie, said and Harry chuckled to himself.

He drew his wand and spelt the door closed, then picked up his by now lukewarm tea, binned the teabag and summoning the bowl of sugar from his makeshift kitchenette, he added three teaspoons of brown sugar.

“Ugh, you’re turning me into a sugar-loving monster, little prince.”

Harry grumbled under his breath, slightly disgusted with himself that he had turned his tea into a sweet syrup. He put the sugar bowl down and hitting the mug with a mild reheating charm, he took a few careful sips, then pulled a face at the extreme sweetness.

With Draco still firmly on the forefront of his mind, he couldn’t quite resist the temptation to daydream a little. He imagined coaxing Draco into letting go of his annoyance and submitting to him instead. He could think of several ways to get Draco to let go of everything. He had managed it before and was rather confident that he could manage it again.

 _I’d make you forget everything but my name_ , Harry thought.

He had to consciously remind himself not to fully succumb to the pie in the sky he had dreamt up. He really wanted to give in and spend the afternoon thinking up various ways of seducing Draco until the raw desire to submit replaced his exasperation over whatever The Prophet had printed about his case.

Feeling just a little befuddled, Harry resolutely decided to postpone his kinky fantasies until later. He most definitely wanted to spend the evening with Draco. The idea of having to stay in the office longer than necessary, just to finish a never-ending influx of paperwork, filled him with enough dread to get himself into gear. He vaguely remembered that he was still hungry but pushing those desires to the back of his mind, he decided to devote the remaining hours of his official working day to get through as many files as possible.


	26. The Weasley/Malfoy Issue (And Some Other Interesting Developments)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Draco have a conversation about some other aspects of Dominance and submission — will it all go smoothly or will there be unforeseen hiccups?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)
> 
> Talking about something and actually doing something are two entirely different things.
> 
>  **Warning:** Please **_do not_** consume any hot beverages while reading this chapter — if you so and an accident happens I won’t be held accountable (those of you who already have plenty of experience doing such nonsense, you know exactly who you are, so I shan’t be pointing fingers...)!

* * *

Long slender fingers curled around Harry’s wrist, effectively stopping him from returning to the living room.

 _Yes_ , Harry thought, _finally_.

Turning to face Draco, Harry raised a curious eyebrow at him and wondered whether Draco was finally ready to tell him what was bothering him.

Within about five minutes of arriving at Draco’s flat, he had noticed that Draco appeared unnerved. All that nervous energy had been subtle and despite, at times, being barely noticeable, it had bugged Harry. He couldn’t think of a good reason for Draco’s nervousness. It made sense that there was still some lingering resentment over today’s headlines in the Prophet but what didn’t make sense was this unusual trepidation Draco carried with him. It was as though he was afraid of having to admit to a mistake.

When he wanted to, Draco knew all too well how to mask his uneasiness, he was, after all, a rather gifted Occlumens. Harry doubted that Draco had failed to properly guard his mind but he seemed entirely too distracted to focus on keeping his thoughts to himself.

A lot had changed since Hogwarts and Harry finally possessed the ability to read people — he didn’t need to magically invade anyone’s mind to do so. No, he’d simply acquired the skill of reading people’s expressions and gauging their feelings based on that. It hadn’t been the easiest thing in the world to learn but it often came in handy. Not only whenever he was interrogating criminals but also when he tried to work out what his subs felt like and how much more they could take before it all got too much.

With Draco, it had been in the way he had moved around the kitchen, shoulders drawn up almost to his ears, while he had finished preparing dinner. It had been in the way he hadn’t asked for Harry’s help to chop the vegetables but had vehemently insisted on taking care of dinner, going even as far as to shoo Harry away to give him space.

_Get out of my kitchen, Potter._

What was usually a teasing taunt had suddenly almost felt like a slap in the face and while it had stung a little, Harry hadn’t let on.

It had been in the way Draco had kept his head down all through dinner, limiting their conversation to the latest Quidditch news and a new law book he planned to order — mindless chatter without any real depth, a pathetic attempt at trying to keep Harry at bay and avoiding any subject that might result in him having to come clean about his feelings. It had been in the way his eyes had flickered with worry and in the way, he had tensed for a split second when Harry had pulled him close to hug and kiss him.

Harry wasn’t entirely sure whether Draco had intended for him to notice all these things or whether he had unconsciously allowed his agitation to shine through but to Harry, Draco was an open book. It had taken him a great deal of mental control to stop himself from addressing the elephant in the room.

 _Never confront, unless you are completely sure that this is what your sub needs_ , a piece of advice Caleb had given him many years ago, had helpfully reminded him that forcing Draco to talk when he clearly wasn’t ready to do so would only end with him getting defensive and telling him nothing.

So, instead of exercising a healthy dose of dominance to get Draco to talk about whatever was troubling him, Harry had chosen patience. He had chosen to subtly let Draco know that he was there whenever Draco felt ready to get things off his chest. All those small touches, his soft gentle inquiring glances and an open and inviting body language seemed to have finally done the trick.

“Are you angry with me?” Draco asked.

His voice was soft, his eyes pleading and his expression worried.

Harry took a step closer and setting his mug down on the worktop, he gently removed Draco’s fingers from around his wrist. He held on to Draco’s hand and caressed the back of his hand with his thumb.

“Should I have a reason to be angry with you?”

Draco sighed.

“I don’t know, your note this afternoon, it was so—”

Harry only barely managed to bite back a smirk and only at the very last second.

“Is that what tonight has been all about? You were worried that I’m mad at you because my note was so short?”

Draco nodded and flushed a little.

Harry found it endearing and taking another step closer, he placed his hand on Draco’s hip and squeezed gently.

“I’m not mad and I apologise if my note made you feel that way. That was not my intention.”

“I spent all afternoon worried you were mad at me because of what happened between me and Weasley in your office.”

Draco admitted quietly and when he averted his gaze and lowered his head, Harry abandoned Draco’s hip and placing a single finger underneath Draco’s chin, he pushed it up.

“Hey, look at me,” he said softly.

He waited for Draco to comply.

Once he did, Harry continued.

“You can be a silly fool when you want to be, Draco Malfoy. Just in case saying it once isn’t enough, I’ll say it again. I’m not mad and I’m sorry my note made you feel that way. It was rather short; I admit to that.”

“Made me forget all about that stupid article,” Draco said.

The soft smile, that tugged at the corners of his mouth, and his low chuckle pleased Harry immensely.

“See, that was my intention all along.”

Harry smirked and Draco rolled his eyes.

“Idiot.”

“Hey now, _no_ insults.”

Harry pretended to look affronted and changed the tone of his voice to sound just a little more authoritative — similar to the tone he used when he issued an order in his official capacity as the Head of the Auror Department or when he got a little firmer with Draco while they were in bed together, not that it was strictly necessary because Draco followed most orders, even when softly whispered directly into his ear, but because he thoroughly enjoyed the way Draco would freeze for a second before he obeyed.

“You know how I feel about those, _little prince_ ,” he chided.

He both saw and felt the slight shiver that surged through Draco at the implication his words carried.

“I’m sorry, _S_ —” Draco whispered and his cheeks flushed anew.

He choked slightly on the last word but it made Harry smile nonetheless.

“Such a good boy you are,” he praised.

He leant in and pressed a gentle kiss to Draco’s slightly parted lips.

“You know, good boys get rewards,” he murmured against Draco’s lips, then promptly deepened the kiss.

He plunged his tongue deep into Draco’s mouth, actively seeking out the warm wetness of his tongue. He curled his own around it, playfully teased it until he pulled a strange half-moan half-gasp from Draco.

Harry relished in the way that Draco’s hand twitched in his and pressing him firmly against the worktop, he trailed his fingertips down Draco’s neck, along his shoulder and down his arm. When he reached Draco’s wrist, he gripped it tightly and gently pulled Draco’s arm behind his back, loosely restraining it there.

Draco arched against him and a low appreciative moan escaped past his lips and into Harry’s mouth. Harry thrust forward, trapping Draco between the kitchen counter and his own body, and slowly breaking the kiss, he pulled back and smirked at Draco.

“Let’s take this conversation back to the living room, much easier to bend you over my knee and spank that pretty arse of yours in case you decide to force my hand with some more foul language. And don't for once think I won't do it.”

Unable to completely conceal the effect Harry’s words had on him, Draco’s eyes darkened considerably.

For a moment, Harry felt the desire to indulge Draco. He wanted to give Draco yet another chance to explore his newly discovered penchant for spankings but decided against it. The fantasy of it was just as good and since the whole idea of dominance and submission was still so very new to Draco, Harry knew that Draco needed to explore his fantasies and indulge in them almost more than he needed the real thing. It was a safe haven, a way for him to acclimatise himself with the whole idea, a change for him to imagine whatever it was that he wanted without diving head first into things he wasn't quite ready for.

Pulling a little further away from Draco, Harry released his arm and his hand.

Draco looked a bit lost but he managed to regain some of his composure, though his breathing remained laboured.

Harry picked up both his and Draco’s mug of hot milky black tea, then winked at Draco.

“Little experiment. Let’s see how good you are at following orders,” he said.

“I want you to wait until I’ve sat down on the sofa, before you may follow me. Can you do that for me, my little prince?”

Draco gave a small nod and pleased with his willingness to try and obey, Harry made his way into the living room. He was careful not to spill the tea as he walked and placing the tea mugs on cork coasters on the table, he sat down on the sofa and leant back comfortably.

As he did, Draco walked into the living room and stood in front of the sofa, looking a little forlorn and unsure about what to do next.

Harry smiled and patted the empty space next to himself.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’d love a cuddle,” he said.

Draco’s eyes lit up instantly and Harry knew that this was a reaction he’d never tire of seeing on Draco’s face.

With a wide grin, he strode over to Harry, plunged himself down onto the sofa and boldly placed his head in Harry’s lap.

Chuckling, Harry ran his fingers through Draco’s hair and pulled a soft, appreciative moan from Draco. He continued to comb his fingers through Draco’s soft blond locks and glancing at the TV, he smirked.

The current contestant on _Who Wants To Be A Millionaire_ had just wrongly answered a question about where Paddington Bear was originally from and had therefore lost out on the chance to leave with one million British Pounds — in fact, he'd lost out on the change to leave with any money at all.

Despite not knowing most of the answers, though refusing to admit that he didn’t, Draco loved the show and Harry was still trying to wrap his mind around exactly what made Draco enjoy a show he didn’t really understand. It wasn’t as bad as Draco’s penchant for the _Big Bang Theory_ though. Nearly all the jokes, as well as all the science, made absolutely no sense to Draco, though it didn’t appear to bother him. If anything, and weirdly enough, it just seemed to make him enjoy the show even more.

“Harry?”

Turning his attention away from the TV and back to Draco, Harry smiled down at him and casually rested the hand that wasn’t entangled in Draco’s hair on Draco’s chest, right above his heart.

“About Weasley—”

“What about Ron?” Harry asked.

“I didn’t mean to go off on him like that.”

“Hmm, I was a bit surprised. You two properly riled each other up. Still, hate him that much then?”

Draco scowled.

“I don’t hate Ronald Weasley. I never have. I used to strongly dislike him, these days it’s simmered down to tepid indifference.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Harry rolled his eyes but kept the tone of his voice warm.

He wasn’t entirely happy about how Ron and Draco had gone off at each other but he could understand them both and as such he chose to exercise leniency — for now anyway.

“I wasn’t exactly feeling myself when I showed up in your office. Didn’t help that I wasn’t at all prepared to see Weasley in your office and when he gave me that dark glower, I just couldn’t help myself and all rational thought went out of the proverbial window.”

“Do you think you could call him Ron?”

Draco grimaced.

“I’m not calling him _Weasel_ , aren’t I?”

“Point taken.”

Harry chuckled at Draco’s sassy comeback — he lived for those and truly enjoyed the fact that Draco was bold enough to still be himself. It was exactly what Harry wanted. He enjoyed both sides of Draco, the bold and brazen one that was full of sass and cheek and the submissive one that didn't talk back and surrendered so beautifully that it made Harry's heart pound wildly in his chest.

“You’re not mad about that either, then?”

“I’m not mad at all, Draco, but thank you for your implied apology for acting like a snarky teenager in front of my best friend.”

“You know, I meant what I said. I never did hate Weasley.”

“Let me guess, you were too busy hating me, right?” Harry teased.

“Absolutely, Potter, you were the bane of my existence. I was too preoccupied thinking about you, day and night, to worry about Weasley.”

Harry looked rather amused and his eyes glinted with mischief.

“Day _and_ night, huh? And what sort of thoughts did you have about me that kept you up at night?”

“That’s for me to know and you to wonder about.”

Draco laughed and Harry quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Are you sure, _my little prince_?” he asked, purposefully keeping his voice low but authoritative.

He slowly let his hand slide down Draco’s chest and over his stomach, which quivered underneath his gentle touch, then rested his hand just above the button of Draco’s trousers, and held his gaze for several moments.

“Would you like me to refresh your memory on how I can make you tell me absolutely anything, even your deepest darkest secrets, _my little prince_?”

Draco made a strange squeaking sound and Harry smirked when he grabbed his hand with both of his, stopping him from moving it any lower.

“Don’t,” Draco pleaded.

“Scared of what you’ll tell me, my love?”

“There’s nothing to tell,” Draco said hastily but his flushed cheeks told a different story.

“Hm, yes, sure there isn’t.”

Harry smiled knowingly and withdrawing his hand he placed it back on Draco’s chest.

Draco’s heart was now thumping wildly and that was all Harry needed to know. He had a secret and he was somewhat embarrassed about it.

 _I’ll get it out of you at some point, sweet one,_ he thought and made a mental note to add Draco’s wank fantasies to the list of things they were going to talk about at some point or other.

“Weasley. We were talking about Weasley.”

Draco hurriedly changed the topic and attempted to sit up, but Harry kept him from doing so.

“Nah, don't, I like you like this, on your back, head in my lap, looking up at me.”

“So bossy.”

Draco grumbled and glared up at Harry, who merely shrugged and shuffled into a different position altogether. It took a little bit of moving about but eventually, he was lying on his side with his back pressed into the sofa cushions and his head propped up on his elbow. He placed his hand back on Draco’s chest and draped his leg possessively over Draco’s thighs. Leaning down, he brought his lips close to Draco’s.

“We both know you _like_ it when I get bossy with you,” he whispered.

Before Draco had the chance to respond, Harry kissed him hard. He claimed his mouth with a deep, demanding kiss that had Draco grip at his bicep as he arched his back upwards to press his groin against Harry’s thigh.

Harry pulled away and fixing his eyes on Draco, he kept his gaze on him until Draco lay perfectly still. His chest heaved and his body trembled slightly but otherwise he did not move.

“Arms above your head.”

It was a softly-spoken command but a command all the same. Draco sucked in a sharp breath but obeyed. He slowly let go of Harry’s biceps and raising his arms, he used them to frame his head.

“Such a good little prince you are,” Harry whispered.

He took immense pleasure in the fact that Draco struggled against the fog that presently clouded his brain as his desire to submit to Harry tugged at the edges of his being. It was so frightfully easy to get him to that stage and Harry knew, without the shadow of a doubt, that watching Draco gradually let go and become this pliable, willing submissive was something he'd never tire of.

“Keep them there until I tell you otherwise, if you move them before you're allowed to I will turn that gorgeous behind of yours a beautiful shade of Gryffindor-red,” Harry said.

He paused for a moment to allow Draco to get used to the fact that he was now, out of his own volition, in a submissive pose. Once he was sure that Draco had adjusted adequately, Harry continued.

“Now, I believe you wanted to talk about Ron.”

It took Draco several attempts before he managed to form a clear sentence and even then, he stumbled over his words and had to repeat himself. Harry didn't blame him — Draco's mind was slightly preoccupied, though not so much that he couldn't still follow and participate in the conversation.

“I—, I don’t think Weasley and I— will— will ever be friends but— but I think we could be civil with each other. I know he’s— he’s your best friend. I would try, for— for you. Because— because I love you.”

Harry’s first response was to kiss Draco sweetly and his second response was to reciprocate and tell Draco that he loved him too. Reassurance always came first — if Draco was willing to openly show his vulnerable side then he needed to know that Harry cared about him and that he was safe and looked after.

“You should probably know that Ron sent me a letter before I left the office,” Harry said.

He caressed Draco’s cheek tenderly and placed a butterfly kiss on the tip of his nose which resulted in Draco scrunching up his face and Harry laughing quietly.

“Oh?”

Draco sounded a little more like himself and a lot more in control over his thoughts. His arms were still framing his head, just as Harry had requested, and Harry’s arm and leg were still trapping his body.

“He apologised for storming off and for telling you that he had no idea what I see in you. He said that he lost his head when you mocked him and then said pretty much the same thing you just did. He doesn’t think he’ll ever manage to be friends with you but that he could tell how much you mean to me and that he wanted to try his best to be civil.”

“Are you sure he wrote that letter out of his own volition?” Draco asked.

Harry frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“Not to sound mean or anything, but we are still talking about Ronald Weasley, yes? From what I know about him and from what you’ve told me, as well as going by what I witnessed in your office this afternoon when I accused him of letting his wife fight his battles for him, well, he does not come across as the type of person to write such a letter. On the off chance that you’re going to be mad at me for making such a crass accusation, I think Weasley’s wife made him write that. She probably fed it to him word for word.”

Harry managed to hold his laughter in for all but two seconds, then it burst out of him like a female Hungarian Horntail spewed fire when riled up.

Draco’s clueless expression only served to make Harry laugh harder and pressing his face against Draco’s shoulder, he tried to find it in him to calm himself.

He failed miserably.

His body continued to shake with his unrestrained and nearly hysterical laughter and not even Draco’s use of the f-word would get him to stop. He wheezed and snorted and gasped. His sides ached from the effort it took to laugh and breathe at the same time and it was only when the flat of Draco’s hand firmly connected with his clothed thigh and the fierce sting of the unexpected smack zapped through him, that he started to sober up.

Draco stared at him with a frown.

“You’ve gone insane. What in Salazar's name is wrong with you, Potter?”

“I think I should ask you that question, Draco,” Harry said.

His voice was sharp and curt and he instantly firmed his features. Any trace of amusement had vanished from his face and disentangling himself from Draco, he moved to stand and crossed his arms over his chest. He watched as Draco, eyes wide with fear, scrambled into a sitting position and when he attempted to get to his feet, Harry fixed him with such an icy glare that he instantly sank back into the sofa cushions and did not dare to move.

“I told you not to move your arms until I told you that you can. How difficult is it to obey such a simple request? The vulgar language I can forgive given the circumstance, but slapping me, are you out of your—”

Harry abruptly fell silent.

A strange hissing sound, one Harry had never ever heard before, stopped him from finishing that sentence. It was vicious and piercing and it nearly brought him to his knees. His arms uncrossed out of their own volition and dangled at his sides yet Harry could not recall moving them. The dragon pendant, he’d been wearing around his neck ever since Charlie had given it to him, suddenly burnt red-hot, threatening to melt right through his skin. He grimaced, let out a gasp and shuddering, he inhaled sharply and forced himself to calm down. He wanted to touch the pendant but he also wanted to take a step forward and closer to Draco. Surprisingly his body refused to obey him. It was like the dragon charm prevented him from moving at all.

Harry took another deep breath and forced himself to calm further.

 _Shit_ , he thought, _damn it, no_. He'd gone too far, crossed his own boundaries and just as Charlie had promised Aasymah was stopping him. Harry didn't know whether to be grateful or happy but he was horrified at his own reaction and the way he’d snapped at Draco. He stood frozen to the spot for several minutes, then curled his fingers into tight fists, focused on the hissing sound and realised that the dragon was talking to him, not just spitting strange sounds at him that threatened to burst his eardrums.

“Easy there, youngling, there’s time for rage but it isn’t now, be calm and I shall release you,” the dragon spoke and with a frown, Harry wondered whether Draco had heard that voice too.

One look at him told Harry that he hadn’t.

He took another deep breath and loosened his fists.

 _I’ve got this_ , he thought and a minute later the hissing sound in his ears disappeared. He felt the penchant thrum around his neck as it gradually cooled down and before long it had turned to its resting state. Harry let out a low sigh of relief and swallowed hard. He’d very nearly crossed a line, no, he _had_ crossed a line, he had acted on impulse and allowed his inner Dom to react to Draco's actions. His momentarily lapse of control, though given that he was only human it was perfectly understandable, disgusted him. Draco deserved better and he silently vowed that he would give him better.

He sat back down onto the couch and tried to reach out for Draco’s but he pulled away and immediately scooted to the other the side of the sofa.

Harry sighed. He had to fix this now.  
  
“Draco, please—”

He spoke softly, attempting to salvage the situation — he needed to put things right. The last thing he wanted was for Draco to be scared of him. He wanted to move closer to Draco but knew better than to invade his personal space after he had moved away from him. It was up to Draco to initiate contact. Harry had no intention of forcing it. Instead, he relaxed his features, softened his expression, and held his hand out in the hope that Draco would eventually accept it.

“C’mere, Draco, please, let me explain.”

Harry made sure to keep his voice soft and gentle throughout.

“I promise nothing will happen, you are safe, I’m sorry, Draco, I’m so sorry, please come here.”

Several minutes passed, and each one of them was excruciating for Harry before Draco finally moved. He hesitatingly crawled towards Harry, sat back on his haunches, and resting his hands on his thighs, he looked wary.

 _Merlin, you don’t even know how submissive you are, you’re doing it even now and I don’t deserve it, you utterly perfect creation of nature_ , Harry screamed in his mind but pushed the thought aside and locked it into a dark corner. He had no need for it now.

Harry went to reach out but stopped himself before he touched Draco. Instead, he let his hand hover in mid-air and asked for permission first.

“Draco, may I take your hand?”

Draco inclined his head in silent approval and placing his hand on top of Draco’s, he squeezed gently.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you, that was uncalled for and absolutely out of line. Please don’t be scared, it’s hurting me to see you like that.”

“You terrified me,” Draco whispered.

Harry couldn’t help but note the unshed tears in his eyes and something gripped his heart in a vice-like grip and made it difficult to breathe properly.

“I sure did and I’m sorry, I had no right to speak to you like that. I promise you, it will not happen again, you have my word.”

Harry tightened his hold on Draco and tugged gently, hoping his mild insistence would coax Draco back into his arms. Draco hesitated but eventually, he shuffled forward and allowed Harry to draw him into a hug. Harry kissed the top of his head, stroked his fingers through his hair, and ran his hand soothingly up and down Draco’s back, then laced their fingers together.

“I’m sorry, truly, I am,” he apologised again.

“You were laughing so hard about what I said about Weasley and Granger. I just wanted to know why but you were in no fit state to tell me. I’m sorry I slapped your thigh.”

“Don’t. Don’t apologise. We do not have a Dom/sub relationship, you were perfectly within your rights to do so, I’m ashamed of the way I reacted. My inner Dom got the better of me.”

Harry sighed and placing his index finger underneath Draco’s chin, he gently persuaded him into looking up. Instead of apologising again, he captured Draco’s lips in the softest, most innocent kiss. He poured his emotions and about a million more apologies into the kiss and only pulled away when he felt the wetness of Draco’s silent tears against his own cheeks.

“Why are you crying?”

Draco huffed out a low sigh mixed with a strange sort of chuckle.

“Nobody’s ever kissed me like that,” he admitted.  
  
“Kissed you like what?”  
  
“Like I— like I am the— the most important person ever.”  
  
“Well, I can't speak for anyone else but to me you are the most important person ever and I need you to be happy. I also need you to feel safe when you're with me.”

Harry smiled softly, then leant in and continued to kiss Draco's tears away. They tasted salty and he bravely swallowed them all. It felt like he was trying to force down a bitter pill of regret over his actions but Harry continued until the only wetness left on Draco’s cheeks was that of his kisses.

“I’d kiss you like that every day for the rest of your life if that’s what you wanted, Draco,” Harry said.

He pulled Draco into his arms and held him so close that he was, for a moment, afraid he might crush Draco.

When Draco wrapped his arms around his waist and melted against him, Harry knew that Draco had forgiven him. He kissed the top of Draco’s head and smiled into his soft silken hair.

“Do you want to know why I started laughing so hard?”

Draco nodded.

“Because you have no idea how spot-on you were with what you said. Hermione is rather bossy and Ron lets her be bossy. He enjoys it, I think, but it would take Veritaserum and the Cruciatus Curse to get him to admit that.”

Draco pulled out of their embrace and looked at Harry with a curious expression.

“Do they have a Dom/sub relationship? Are they into— Is Granger like— like you then?”

Harry chuckled and shook his head.

“No, Hermione is not a Domme, she just has a bit of a penchant for bossing her husband around and her husband happens to like it. Then again, she's always been like that. I think Ron is a bit terrified of ‘Mione but he loves her so much, he lets her get away with murder. Besides, if you ask me, her bossiness is what made him fall in love with her in the first place. And you’re right, Hermione did make Ron write that letter. She was also the one who made sure that Ron came by my office today, I’m quite sure of that. You know, Ron is a really good guy, he's got his heart in the right place, he just takes longer to come around to things— Like when I— After I left for Canada with Andromeda and Teddy, he couldn't understand. It took him a good while, but he got there and in the end he was cool with it.”

“Harry?”

“Yes?”

“I need to know— I mean, I want to know. If we were— If we had— you know— a proper Dom/sub relationship— If you were my Dom— if I was your sub— like for real— You’d have punished me for what I did earlier, right?”

 _Absolutely_ , Harry thought but opted for a gentler response.

“Yes, Draco, yes I would have punished you for that. In my book, you broke three rules; I absolutely would have disciplined you.”

“How?”

Draco’s voice was small and barely audible and Harry hesitated.

“Do you really want to know that?”

“Yes, I do,” Draco said.

This time, he sounded a little surer of himself and Harry couldn’t help but admire his curiosity, his thirst for knowledge and his desire to understand everything about the lifestyle.

Harry took a moment to gather his thoughts and thought Draco’s disobedience. He decided to start with the smallest infraction and work his way up chose to keep the punishment to things Draco was already familiar with.

“Alright. Very well. I asked you to put your hands above your head and keep them there until I told you otherwise, correct?”

“Yes.”

“And did you do that?”

“No. No, I didn’t. I moved my arm without your permission.”

“Do you think I’d be within my right to punish you for that?”

“Yes.”

Draco’s response was shaky and he was no longer looking at him, but Harry let it slip.

He could tell that his words were affecting Draco and that he was taking this a little more serious than strictly necessary. To him, it clearly felt like more than just a conversation about disobedience and discipline.

Everything about Draco’s body told Harry that he was getting aroused but that he felt embarrassed to let Harry know what he was and those were the only two reasons why Harry continued. He wanted to fuel Draco's arousal but he also wanted to push him a little past his boundaries and allow him to experience something new and exhilarating.

“I’m glad you agree. As for your punishment, I think I would make you kneel and ask you to stretch your arms out over the sofa, let them hover there for three minutes and each time you falter and one or both of your arms touch the sofa, I’ll add thirty seconds to your punishment until you learn that you must not move your arms until I permit you to do so. What do you think, does that sound reasonable?”

Draco nodded and Harry noted that his breathing was now slightly laboured.

He pulled Draco tightly against him and held him close for a while before he continued.

“As for your use of foul language. Let's say our Dom/sub relationship agreement stipulated that you may not use foul language in my presence, but you broke said rule, I would most definitely punish you for that, my little prince. You broke the rule in the kitchen and I believe, I gave you a firm reprimand. I told you exactly what to expect for a repeat offence. You used foul language again so that would most definitely result in a spanking, however, your final offence was to slap me, which is downright disrespectful behaviour towards to your Dom and not something I would ever let slide. I think I would combine your punishment for the use of foul language and slapping me. I think five hard strikes with a nice leather belt would be perfectly acceptable and I’d make you count them out too.”

Harry fell silent and when Draco buried his face in his chest and clutched at his shirt, he let him.

A strange sort of whimper escaped his throat and Harry slowly let his hand slide down Draco’s back. He rested it on Draco’s buttocks and squeezed gently.

Draco moaned into his chest, the sound was somewhat muffled but he was still able to discern the moan for what it was — all that talk about discipline had aroused Draco, Harry had absolutely no doubt about it.

He rubbed the palm of his hand over Draco’s buttocks, drew several small gasps from somewhere deep within Draco and cupping his chin, he forced Draco to look at him.

Draco’s flushed face looked so beautiful that Harry couldn’t help but lean in to steal a kiss. He wanted Draco to look at him but Draco kept his eyes firmly shut and refused to open them, even when prompted.

“My little prince, not following orders will result in a punishment, you know that, don’t you?” he warned softly, then asked Draco for the second time to look at him.

When Draco refused, Harry smacked his buttock once but firmly.

At that, Draco’s eyes flew open and he stared at Harry.

His bottom lip quivered and his eyes were glistening with unshed tears.

“One more little infraction, my little prince,” Harry whispered.

“While I will never have a problem with you storming _into_ my office to rant, I will always have a problem with you storming _out_ of my office without at the very least politely excusing yourself. That is utterly disrespectful and completely unacceptable.”

Harry paused and squeezed Draco’s arse cheek again.

“And for that, do you know what I’d do to you for that, my little prince?” he asked.

He watched as Draco bit his bottom lip and shook his head.

“I’d make you take off all your clothes and tell you to stroke your cock,” Harry murmured.

He trailed his hand down Draco’s chest and used a bit of gentle force to slide it between Draco’s thighs.

Draco silently spread his legs apart to grant him access and Harry cupped his erection through his trousers. He squeezed it firmly and drew a beautiful whimper from Draco.

Then, as he continued to speak, he slipped his hand into Draco’s trousers and mirrored what he was saying.

“I’d make your stroke yourself just like this until you’re so close that you’re desperate to come. Then I’d tell you to stop and I’d make you do that for as long as it would take for you to get on your knees and start to beg me _please, please, please let me come, Sir_.”

Draco groaned and his eyes flickered shut. Harry slapped his buttock and they flew open again. Draco’s mouth fell open too and he gasped and shuddered.

“And you know what, Draco? After all that edging, when you’re most desperate for your release and when you’re begging me to let you have your pleasure, I still wouldn’t let you have it, not after all your transgressions. There’s an evil little spell that I can use, it’ll make your erection wilt like a flower without water and you won’t be able to get hard again until I take it off you. And do you know the best thing about that spell? It takes away your erection but it doesn’t lessen the frustration. You’ll still feel on edge the whole time but you’ll be unable to do anything about it. After enduring that for a few hours, you'll be perfect putty in my hands, being disobedient would be the last thing on your mind.” Harry said.

He stroked Draco’s cock harder, faster and with a purpose. Draco’s fists clenched into his shirt and he whimpered. His eyes fluttered and Harry smacked his buttocks hard.

“No, Draco, you will look at me, is that understood? If you want to come, you will look at me,” Harry said firmly.

Draco nodded in mute agreement.

“Fuck, do you have any idea how goddamn gorgeous you look right now, my love? Wanton and so desperate for the release only I can give you. Turned on and pushed to the brink by mere words. Yours is a special kind of kink, isn’t it, my little prince?”

“Yes, Sir.”

The words feel from Draco’s mouth and went straight to Harry’s cock which throbbed painfully in its confines.

It set Harry on fire and unable to ignore his own desires, he pushed Draco onto his back and yanked his trousers down. He mumbled a wandless lubrication spell and pushing two fingers into Draco, he finger-fucked him, trying to draw out his own desperate need to have Draco, to claim him, to make him his. His fingers brushed Draco’s prostate and Draco screamed. He threw an arm over his eyes and shamelessly begged for more.

“Please, please, please, _please_ ,” the words fell from his lips in a never-ending chant.

“Look at me,” Harry growled.

He undid his trousers, pulled his pulsing cock out, and muttering a lubrication spell, he positioned himself at Draco’s hole. Draco moved both arms to rest above his head and stared up at Harry with his eyes wide open. His mouth hung open and Harry swallowed hard. Unable to control himself just a moment longer, he pushed into Draco and filled him with his cock. He watched as Draco’s face contorted and his body tried to adjust to the sudden intrusion and whispered sweet nothings into Draco’s ear to help distract him. It only took a minute before Draco relaxed completely.

“This isn’t going to be gentle,” Harry warned.

Draco’s only response was to arch his back and his wanton movement forced Harry’s cock deeper into him.

“Fuck me, _Sir_ , please,” he panted. “Please, _Sir_ , please, I need you to fuck me.”

Harry pulled back and slammed into Draco. He grabbed Draco’s leg at the knee, pushed it up to his chest, and fucked Draco hard. Every single one of his thrusts shook Draco to the very core and Harry felt pulled under by the display of pure desire dancing on Draco’s face.

He was willingly submitting and begging for Harry to take him and it was the most beautiful sight Harry had ever seen. Draco’s pleas were music to his ears and his desperate moans pushed Harry closer and closer towards his own release.

When he was barely able to hold back, he told Draco to come for him, and come Draco did.

Thick spurts of come flew from his untouched cock and they landed on his shirt and Harry’s own clothing. Harry didn’t care, not even a little. He managed one last thrust into Draco and slammed right into his prostate, prolonging his orgasm for another few seconds. Draco clenched around him and that was enough to pull Harry, who felt a little overwhelmed by everything that had transpired tonight, over the edge. He emptied himself deep inside of Draco, and panting and falling against him, he sought out Draco’s open mouth and claimed it in a breathless kiss.

“Mine,” he whispered and Draco shuddered underneath him.  
  
“Yours.”

They lay together like that for the longest time, well, until Draco started shivering and Harry’s now soft cock slipped out of him. It was only then that Harry grudgingly moved and getting to his feet, he pulled Draco up and half-carried half-dragged him upstairs where he removed the remainder of his clothing and then his own before taking Draco into the shower with him to get them both cleaned up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What stood out to you in this chapter? Let me know. I’m intrigued.


	27. Hampstead Heath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)
> 
> I feel that I should include a bit of an Author's Note to endeavour to explain myself, the story and the previous chapter(s) a little. It may not be strictly necessary, so feel free to skip over it, but I would like to do so anyway (for my own peace of mind and perhaps to offer some sort of clarification). Alright then, here goes nothing...
> 
> Harry and Draco are first and foremost in a quite normal relationship, the one just about everyone is most familiar with. It's not completely vanilla but it's most definitely not a proper BDSM relationship. It includes D/s elements which are all consensual. Despite the lack of a formal D/s agreement Harry **always** gives Draco an out. To give a few examples, in _"Two Silken Ties"_ he used turned the spell, that would release Draco's bonds into a safeword and in _"Afternoon Tea"_ he made it very clear that Draco should tell him if it got too much and he wanted/needed to stop.
> 
> Harry is most definitely not pushing for a D/s relationship; to do so would be irresponsible of him since Draco is a complete newbie while Harry himself is an experienced Dom - what he has little experience in, however, is being in an actual relationship.
> 
> At this point in time, Draco does not have the required knowledge to enter into a proper full-time D/s relationship and he isn't ready for it either. So far, everything he knows about the lifestyle is what Harry told him and what he's read himself, which isn't all that much. It simply isn't enough and he is not yet able to make a fully informed decision about being in such a relationship. Having had sex with more than one person and/or having experimented with handcuffs or vanilla restraints in the bedroom does not give anyone the knowledge required to successfully navigate the waters of a full-time D/s relationship. It is vastly different from a normal relationship, yet the two can be easily combined. Some people choose to do so, others choose not to; it all boils down to personal preference and whether your partner is able to meet your needs and what kind of kinks you have.
> 
> Draco has only just begun to discover his submissive side and while Harry does, very lightly, push his boundaries - to test the waters and find out more about where Draco's limits are - he at no point takes it too far.
> 
> The original draft of Chapter 26 did not include any intervention from Aasymah, the charmed dragon pendant, Charlie gifted Harry in Chapter 12. I did not feel that such an intervention was necessary since I had absolute faith in Harry and his ability to control himself. This is how I wrote him, and this is how I see him. Being in control comes easy him, unless, of course, he is in the presence of one Molly Weasley, that's where he becomes putty. Why did I add it in later, then? Simple. My headcanon is that the way Aasymah works is that she reacts a bit like an ECG in a hospital. It can be set to sound an alarm when the patient's heart reaches a certain rate that may perhaps be too low or too high or irregular (or in the worst case, no heartbeat at all). I, therefore, decided that in the one moment Harry allowed his inner Dom to take over and react to Draco slapping his thigh, his heart rate would have been elevated. I figured Aasymah would have reacted to that. On another note, I also wanted to show you (and by extension Harry) that the charms Charlie placed on the pendant did work and how they worked.
> 
> Finally, up until this point Harry hasn't disciplined Draco for anything and he has no intention of doing so unless they formalise their relationship a little and Draco consents to Harry taking certain measures to discipline his behaviour. The main point of Chapter 26 was to show Draco's confusion over Harry's note and him trusting Harry enough to have a conversation about it (even though it took a while for him to work up the courage to do so). Yes, they did talk about discipline, yes they did talk about punishment, but none of that happened. What happened is that they had hot sex on the sofa because Draco got turned on by Harry's words, the light power play and the idea of getting punished. I assure you (and I speak from personal experience), there's a vast difference between the idea of getting punished/disciplined for something versus that punishment/discipline actually happening. Draco happens to like a bit of spanking, as he already discovered, so Harry merely used that as an incentive.
> 
> I hope this clarified a few things, however, if you have any other questions, please do let me know. I will do my very best to try and answer anything you might like to know.

* * *

Stretching his legs lazily out in front of him, Harry braced himself on his arms and wriggled his bare toes — according to Draco one wasn't allowed to wear shoes during a picnic; it apparently was a heinous crime. Draco's logic had amused Harry a great deal and he'd chuckled about it for a good while but in the end he had willingly complied with Draco's order. It was nice to spend a relaxing afternoon in the sun with Draco, without unwanted interruptions. It was just them, spending a bit of quality time together and it felt glorious and absolutely and perfectly right.

He reached for a green grape, popped it into his mouth, and chewing it slowly, he let his eyes roam over Draco's body, marvelling at how handsome he was. Harry felt incredibly lucky and the fact that he was being overly romantic was of no concern to him. He wanted their relationship to last, preferably forever. He was aware of just how mawkish his own thoughts sounded to him but he couldn't care any less.

Although Harry couldn't find any fault with spending an entire afternoon thinking about Draco — after all, he'd done it often enough in the past, even when they hadn't been a couple yet — he turned his attention back to giving Draco an appreciative once-over.

Draco had sprawled out on his back on top of their picnic blanket and had folded his arms behind his head, effectively using them as a pillow. His eyes were closed and he had tilted his face towards the warm afternoon. His blond hair sparkled in the sunshine, making him look just a little otherworldly.

 _Like an angel_ , Harry thought with a smile. 

He popped another grape into his mouth. Somehow, he had a hard time feeling embarrassed about his feelings for Draco and if he was truly honest with himself, he wasn’t even all that surprised. He was in love with the man and he wasn't ashamed about it. Draco occasionally mocked him for it, reasoning that only a Gryffindor could be so utterly sentimental but every time Draco put him on the spot for his corniness, Harry simply smiled and distracted him with a sweet toe-curling kiss. So far, Draco had yet to learn how to resist him, although, Harry was sure that if he really wanted to, Draco would have absolutely no trouble resisting him. It just so happened that he had no inclination to do so and Harry rather liked that about his little prince.

The content smile on Draco’s face told Harry that his _spur-of-the-moment-_ idea to persuade Draco to leave the office at lunch had been a good one.

They'd originally arranged to have a quick lunch at a nearby coffee shop but he had firmly insisted that they skip said coffee shop lunch in favour of something a little more special.

Draco had, of course, endlessly pestered him for a reason but Harry had merely silenced him with a heated kiss, then apparated them both to Hampstead Heath for a relaxing picnic and a lazy afternoon in the sun — they’d really gotten lucky, the weather was wonderful. It was neither too hot nor too cold, just perfect really.

On the way over, they had stopped at a rather well-known Muggle Providore, the famed Hampstead Heath Fine Foods & Butcher, to purchase a deluxe picnic hamper and Harry had left the task of filling it with all sorts of goodies up to Draco. Somehow he'd had the feeling that Draco would thoroughly enjoy the task and Harry had been right.

Draco had chosen a fine bottle of wine, an exquisite assortment of cheeses, grapes, fresh tea sandwiches, boiled eggs, Caprese salad, cherry tomatoes, blueberries, tea cakes, pastries, and a selection of luxury chocolates. He'd been completely in his element and had carefully chosen each item. It had made Harry’s heart flutter and he knew he’d treasure that moment forever — it absolutely was the simple things that had made him fall in love with Draco. His love for desserts, the way his face lit up when handed a cup of coffee, how much he cared about his job, how he had turned out to be an all-or-nothing sort of guy. The way his eyes sparkled when Harry praised him and how affectionate he was — something that had very much surprised him. It was an endless list of a million tiny completely and ordinary things.

Picnic basket in hand they had strolled through the large park to find a quiet spot, which, considering that it was a workday, hadn’t been difficult at all. Despite the splendid weather they practically had most of the park for themselves.

“Harry Potter, I can now officially say that you have set the bar very high.”

Draco broke the comfortable silence between them and pulled Harry out of his thoughts. He chuckled, leant forward, and pecked Draco, who voiced is approval with a content hum, on the lips.

Reaching into the picnic basket, Harry procured a piece of handmade honeycomb chocolate which he fed to Draco.

“That is exactly my intention, my little prince. I wish to ruin you for everyone else. Like it or not, you’ll be stuck with me for as long as you’ll have me. I’d prefer that to be the rest of your life but that’s not really my decision to make. Still, nobody else will ever be able to do what I can do to your sanity.”

Draco’s eyes darkened slightly, though not because he was glowering in disapproval but because he was intrigued and interested, and moving some of the food boxes out of the way, Harry lay on his side and propped himself up on his elbow. He trailed a single finger down Draco’s chest, along his hipbone, and up his side, then rolled over to lie half on top of Draco. Instead of letting Draco take his entire body weight, he braced himself on his arms and looking down at him, Harry watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard.

“I fear you may have succeeded,” Draco whispered.

He smiled softly and Harry could feel his happiness radiate off him in waves.

“That's exactly what I wanted to hear you say.”

Harry smirked and easing himself down on top of Draco, he captured his lips in a kiss that started innocent enough but ended with them both panting after Harry slowly but surely deepened the kiss with the very intention of plunging his tongue into Draco’s mouth and enticing its counterpart to join into a fiercely passionate battle for the upper hand — which Harry, of course, won. If you ignored the fact that Draco had willingly surrendered to the kiss, that was.

“I vote that you take me home now and have your wicked way with me,” Draco said breathlessly.  
  
Harry chuckled.

“Why? I can have my wicked way with you right here, right now. There's absolutely no need to wait until we get back to your flat.”

Draco looked rather indignant.

“Harry James Potter, I’m not going to have sex with you in the middle of a park where anyone could see us! You may be slowly but surely corrupting me with your love of kink, but that's going a little bit too far.”

Harry raised a curious eyebrow, then chuckled softly, thoroughly amused by Draco’s facial expression and the dark look he was giving him.

He highly doubted that Draco was completely opposed to experimenting outside the bedroom but it was, perhaps, still a bit early to bring that particular topic up. The idea of outdoor sex appealed to Harry but sex in a public park was a little too much out there, even for his liking. It didn’t mean that he couldn’t have a little fun playing with Draco.

“Who said anything about _sex_ , Draco?” he asked.

He held Draco's gaze and gave him a pointed look, then continued to tease him.

“My little prince, as we discovered last night, I can drive you to the brink of your sanity with mere words. Your imagination is apparently vivid enough for that.”

“Harry…”

Draco exhaled audibly and his pupils dilated a little more.

“Yes, Draco?”

Harry couldn't quite stop the predatory smile that crept onto his face, nor did he want to stop it.

“Now, what little fantasy shall I torment you with, huh? Any preferences? Or should we just imagine that I’ll strip you naked, tie your hands behind your back and fuck your hole with my tongue while I have you on your knees in front of me? If you’re a good little prince and don’t make a single sound, I’ll even stroke your cock and let you come after I’ve had my fun teasing you until you’re so desperate you’ll beg me for your release. I do especially enjoy that part, when you beg me.”

Harry teased and momentarily falling silent, he nipped at Draco’s lips, half-biting and half-kissing them.

“All it will take is a couple of charms and nobody will ever notice that you let me eat your arse in public. Nobody won't know but us. You'll go home knowing that, you'll think about it for days, you'll fantasise about a repeat performance. Just imagine...”

“Harry— Salazar... don’t— I— I can’t—” Draco pleaded, looking both flustered and intensely turned on.

His chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried but failed to control his excitement and his breathing. He was clearly just a little overwhelmed.

“Too much?” Harry asked.

Draco gave a small nod and respecting Draco’s boundaries; Harry placed a gentle kiss on Draco’s slightly parted lips and pulled away from him. He moved into an upright position, sat cross-legged, and reached for another grape to pop into his mouth — they were incredibly juicy, sweet, and far too delicious for him to resist finishing off the entire pack.

Lifting his head, Draco braced himself on his forearms, then flexed his stomach muscles and sat up. He looked a bit dazed and Harry didn’t even need to look at his crotch to know that Draco was rock hard. Making Draco’s blood surge south and pool low in his groin was almost too easy. Harry thoroughly enjoyed it. He loved having that power of Draco, it gave him a kick, and by the looks of it Draco liked it too.

Harry was, however, also mature and experienced enough to give Draco space when he needed it. He handed him a small bottle of cool water and gave him a few moments to cool down. Draco took a couple of small sips, inhaled deeply and reaching into the picnic hamper, he took out a small chocolate cake, unwrapped it, and taking a bite, he closed his eyes and sighed.

 _Divine_ , Harry thought.

There was something quite irresistible and absolutely exquisite about the way Draco ate sweets. He always had that utterly blissed-out expression on his face, like he was floating, and it was beautiful to watch.

“Feeling more like yourself?” Harry asked once Draco had finished his chocolate cake.

“Loads. You are a dangerous weapon, Director Potter.”

Draco smiled.

“Only because you want me to be, Prosecutor Malfoy, I hope you know that.”

Draco nodded and Harry leaned back on his hands and smiled.

“This kind of brings me to the reason why I brought you out here for a picnic.”

“I knew you had ulterior motives, Potter. There’s no way you brought me out here for just a romantic afternoon in the park. Gentlemen like this only exist in literature.”  
  
Harry grinned and idly wondered what sort of fictional chap Draco was referring to. Muggle fiction or a wizarding tale? He was intrigued and almost tempted enough to ask but he and Draco had something to talk about first. It was important.

“When it comes to you, my little prince, I always have ulterior motives. And relax, I just wanted to talk to you about last night and make sure you’re okay about what happened.”

Draco laughed heartily.

“I really don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about. I’m always going to be okay with you initiating mind-blowing sex, Harry.”

Harry gave him a stern look and that was all it took to get him to sober up.

“You know very well that that’s not what I’m talking about, Draco. There’s a huge difference between me exercising a bit of dominance over you and me disciplining you for bad behaviour. It’s something we need to talk about.”

“You didn’t actually discipline me last night though. We just talked about it and—”

Draco left the sentence unfinished. He looked a bit unsure and Harry effortlessly picked up where he’d left off.

“And just talking about it excited you quite a bit. So much even that you melted in my arms, called me _Sir_ , and begged me to fuck you.”

He deliberately did not mince his words; he needed Draco to understand that this was not an ordinary reaction. This was the typical reaction of a sub who thoroughly enjoyed surrendering to his Dom — because given the right circumstances, even talking about a punishment could be exciting. Granted, the actual punishment most likely wouldn’t be but there was most definitely something arousing about the idea of it.

When he’d twisted Draco’s mind with kinky fantasies of being completely controlled and disciplined to correct his misbehaviour, Harry had been firm but playful and Draco has responded beautifully.

Draco flushed and promptly averted his eyes in embarrassment.

Normally, Harry found it endearing when Draco blushed but right now, he had other things on his mind.

Last night, Draco had been too mentally exhausted for Harry to coax him into having a conversation about what had happened between them. It had been intense and extremely hot and they needed to talk about it — he needed Draco to understand that there would be times when he would want to punish Draco for misbehaving but that he'd never do it without his explicit permission. Not having Draco’s approval went against everything Harry believed in. For him keeping it consensual was the only way to truly indulge in the lifestyle. Anything less than that simply did not do.

The way Draco had snuggled into him after their shower, had led Harry to believe that Draco was perfectly fine with everything that had transpired.

For his own peace of mind, however, Harry needed to hear Draco say it to feel completely at ease with the way the evening had progressed for them both. Especially because of the incident with Aasymah when he'd nearly given into his desire to discipline Draco — something he was still beating himself up for, even though he knew that there was really no point to do so. 

He was painfully aware that he should have had more control over the situation, should have exercised a little more self-restraint but somehow, he’d managed to lose himself in the heat of the moment. Then again, he was also mature enough to admit that he was only human.

Thankfully, Charlie’s pendant had stopped him before he’d truly gone too far and he’d managed to salvage the situation. He’d been rather surprised to discover that their little setback, while a frightening experience, hadn’t in the least quenched Draco’s desire to satisfy his own curiosity and the evening had, unsurprisingly, ended in rather hot and truly mind-blowing sex.

Still, communication was key — it was one of Harry's mantras and not something he intended to ever ignore.

Last night, he had fallen asleep to the regular rhythm of Draco’s breathing, but before giving in and drifting off into dreamland, Harry had vowed to speak to Draco in the morning.

When he had woken up, Draco had already left for the Ministry. He hadn't done it to avoid the conversation but because he needed to be in early for a deposition — the note he’d left on his pillow had said as much.

Pulling himself out of his reverie, Harry shuffled closer to Draco and placed his hand on Draco’s thigh.

The innocent gesture made Draco look straight at him and calmly hold his gaze. Something in Draco’s eyes momentarily stunned Harry into silence.

He couldn’t quite put his finger on it but there was something about the way that Draco looked at him that sucked him right into Draco's world — and it wasn’t the first time it had happened. The sensation left him feeling pleasantly tingly all over.

Somehow, the look in Draco’s eyes said that he was both determined to stand his ground and, given the right incentive, ready to give it all up.

Harry couldn’t imagine anyone but Draco being able pull that look off — the unbelievable mixture of zest and power and the willingness to let go, to not be in charge. It was terrifyingly addictive and it made him want Draco all the more.

He squeezed Draco’s leg gently.

“You made it sound so hot— I couldn’t— I didn’t want to—” Draco said.

His voice was barely a whisper but Harry did not need him to speak any louder. He also didn’t need to him finish any of his sentences to understand the meaning Draco was trying to convey — he understood and it was yet another testament to the depth of their connection. They had found something real, something truly magical, something worth treasuring for as long as possible.

“Well, you do have a penchant for getting spanked, so I deliberately chose that to keep things fun. I didn’t want to scare you off since we _do not_ have a Dom/sub relationship and a valid contract that stipulates what counts as a punishable transgression. As such, I don’t feel that I have the right to punish you for anything. Consent is extremely important to me and while I could have gotten that from you last night, it didn't seem right. However, I can assure you that you would not have enjoyed five strikes with a leather belt. It would have hurt.”

“How much?”

“That would depend entirely on the belt and how hard I strike you with it. It would also depend on whether I allow you to wear clothes or strike your bare arse,” Harry said.

The scowl on Draco’s face told him that Draco wasn’t at all satisfied with that answer but before he could get grumbly about it, Harry quickly elaborated. He was only all too happy to offer further information; he wanted Draco to know it all. No secrets.

“I think you know that five strikes on your naked butt would hurt more than five strikes on your clothed butt. Since the average belt is rather soft and pliable, it wouldn’t hurt as much than a belt specially designed for punishments, those sting a whole lot more, mainly because it’s a different kind of leather that’s not as soft but much harsher. A broader belt would hurt less than a thin one, that one would sting quite a bit, it would probably feel similar to a whip, if I had to give you something to compare it to, which I realise won’t mean much to you since you’ve never experienced either. Depending on everything I just told you and on how hard I strike you with the belt, what you’ll feel could be anything between an enjoyable smack that'll have you beg me for more and something so fucking painful it’ll break the skin and make you bleed and possibly have you shout out your safeword.”

Harry paused and gave Draco a moment to digest all the information he had just given him.

When Draco’s breathing grew laboured, Harry knew it wasn’t because his words had aroused Draco but because he was tethering on the brink of hyperventilation — and just like that the idea of discipline wasn’t all that arousing anymore.

Harry shuffled closer to Draco, squeezed his thigh once more and, keeping his voice low and soft, he asked him for his hand. Draco gave it to him willingly and Harry effortlessly found the pulse point on the inside of his wrist. He gently circled his thumb over it and softly prompted Draco to look at him. 

Draco took a deep breath which appeared to calm him a little and slowly raising his head, he looked right at Harry. A storm of confusion raged in his silvery-grey eyes. Every single emotion, from excitement to fear to trepidation to mild arousal swirled around in them and while his outward experience gave off a sense of calmness, Harry knew Draco was trying his hardest to process, to understand, to come to terms with it all. It wasn’t an easy feat to do and Harry didn’t expect him to successfully digest everything in a single afternoon nor did he want him to. It was impossible.

“I want you to listen to me very carefully, Draco, and I want you to remember what I'm telling you. I would _never_ ever take a belt to you without your explicit approval, absolutely never and under no circumstance. If I did, that would be abuse and that is not me. It would also be a criminal offence, but I don’t have to tell you that. For a Dom/sub relationship to work, a valid contract is necessary. In it, both parties outline their needs and desires as well as what they can or cannot accept. That's the only way this type of relationship can work. Now, I’ll say it again, because I really need that message to sink in. If I was to punish you however I saw fit, with a complete disregard for your limits, then that would be abuse.”

“If we had that kind of relationship you would have taken a belt to me yesterday, am I right?” Draco asked.

Draco lowered his gaze to focus on what Harry was doing to his wrist and it seemed to calm him further. Harry was glad.

He would have preferred for Draco to continue looking at him, but he let it slide. At this moment in time, Draco's comfort was more important to him than eye contact.

“No. I don’t think I would have used corporal punishment at all.”

“Why not?”

Draco lifted his head and frowned. His confusion was evident in his eyes.

“According to you, I broke four rules. I stormed out of your office, I moved my arms when I wasn’t allowed to, I used foul language twice and I slapped your thigh.”

“Hypothetically speaking, if we had a valid D/s contract, all these actions would most definitely fall into the misbehaviour category, however—”

“And would, therefore, be punishable,” Draco interrupted.

Harry glared disapprovingly.

“Draco. Please use your prosecutor’s brain. Also, don't interrupt me, it's rude. I said I wouldn’t have used corporal punishment. I didn’t say _no_ punishment. Now, will you please let me explain?”

Draco had the sense to look abashed and nodded mutely.

Harry smiled.

“Thank you. Yesterday’s article in the Prophet agitated you, that’s why you stormed into my office. You needed to vent, you needed someone to listen to, but above all you wanted comfort. On top of that, you most certainly weren’t prepared to bump into Ron. Given the circumstances under which the transgression, which was you storming out of my office without excusing yourself, happened, I think a conversation would have been enough to rectify the matter. Then again, a transgression isn't always a transgression, Draco, you must understand that. It isn't the same as when you prosecute a criminal. In a D/s relationship you cannot take a transgression out of context, not ever. It would be extremely irresponsible, not to mention a clear sign of a distinct lack of experience, if I did that. You were upset, people act differently when they're upset. I would have told you that I didn't like the way you stormed out of my office but given the context I wouldn't have punished you for it. As for your use of foul language, if that was something we'd agreed on you not being allowed to do while in my company, I’d have simply turned the TV off and sent you upstairs to write me an essay to explain why you felt it was necessary to resolve to use foul lan—”

“What the actual fuck, I’m not a child anymore, Harry, and we’re not at Hogwarts! What’s next? Writing five-hundred times _I will not slap my Dom_?!” Draco interrupted with utter indignation.

He pulled his wrist away from Harry and shoved his hand off his thigh. He looked livid and almost ready to draw his wand and curse Harry’s balls off.

Harry smirked. He had absolutely expected that reaction.

Draco had too strong a personality to accept the idea of such a punishment without putting up a fight. Given what he knew about Draco from their time at Hogwarts and what he’d learnt since they’d rekindled, Harry was also convinced if he’d have a hard time getting Draco to accept writing an essay as a form of discipline.

“A punishment isn’t supposed to be fun, Draco, that would render it completely useless,” Harry reasoned calmly but Draco’s expression remained livid and he glared icy daggers.

Harry suppressed the desire to chuckle — Draco's fiery disposition was most definitely doing funny things to him.

“Writing lines sounds like a marvellous idea. Your reaction tells me it's something that you'd dislike more than anything, so yes, I would absolutely make you write lines — the message would sink in wonderfully, I'm quite sure of that. However, you would not be writing lines for slapping me on the thigh. Slapping your Dom is completely disrespectful and unacceptable, even if it’s done playfully. As my boyfriend you’d get away with it, as my sub there’d be no way I’d let you get away with such despicable behaviour. I think, I would have left you alone for the evening and not made you write lines. A sub who disrespects me does not deserve my company, simple as.”

Draco gaped and while he stared disbelievingly, Harry chanced his luck and reached for Draco’s hand.

When Draco didn’t pull away, he squeezed gently.

“If you’d like to read a couple of D/s contracts, just to get a feel for the content, I’d be more than happy show you some,” he offered. “Just to be clear, this would be for you to get an idea about what a contract is like, what the dynamic feels like. Something for you to read and think about. I’m not expecting you to sign one with me.”

“This lifestyle, this is your thing. How can you not want me to sign one? You love it when I submit to you, you said so yourself. When I surrender and let you have control, it gives you a kick, you live for it,” Draco said disbelievingly.

Harry moved to straddle Draco’s thighs. He cradled Draco’s face in his hands and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

“Tell me, my love, what joy would I get from you entering into a proper D/s relationship with me if this wasn’t something you really wanted? Yes, I love it when you submit. Yes, I live for your surrender but only when you give it freely. You letting me control you gives me a high but you've got to understand that if you’re not enjoying yourself then I’m not enjoying myself either. The moment you stop enjoying it, the dynamic is off balance. I told you this before, and I’ll tell you again and as many times as it’s necessary for you to remember. I will never want something that you don’t want, that's not how this works. I love you. Besides, it’s way too early for us to consider a formal D/s agreement. It’s a massive step and not something that should be done on a whim. You barely know anything at all, now is the time for you to learn and discover, not think about signing a contract with me that'll give me the right to spank you whenever I feel like it.”

“What if I never want it? What if all I’ll ever want is a bit of kinky sex and you to occasionally getting a bit bossy?”

Harry smiled. He didn't even need to think about his response. There was only one answer.

“Then that’s all you’ll ever want.”

Draco opened his mouth and for a moment Harry thought that he was going to tell him that he didn’t believe a word of what he had just told him, but those words never left his mouth.

Instead, he smiled.

It was a faint smile but it was most definitely a smile and Harry felt himself relax.

He captured Draco’s lips in a slow, heartfelt kiss. They had a lot more to talk about and it would take them some time to cover all aspects but they had all the time in the world — there was no need for them to rush into anything, especially not something Harry knew Draco wasn’t ready for.

Draco’s sudden need to seek physical reassurance told Harry he was rapidly reaching his limits. As such, Harry decided to order a few more books for Draco to read in his own time. Then again, books only could teach Draco so much. He needed to talk to people who frequented the lifestyle, he needed to meet like-minded souls who could give him a far better impression of what being a sub was like.

 _I should take you to a munch_ , Harry thought as he slowly pulled away from the kiss and smiled at Draco. He looked just a little bit dazed. Apparently, a kiss was enough to turn his world upside down.

Harry chose to take things one step further, offer just a little bit more reassurance.

“You are who I want, Draco, what you give me is what I want,” he whispered, his lips brushing Draco’s as he spoke. “In your own time, at your pace, always.”


	28. An Unexpected Gift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)
> 
> Once again, I would like to thank you wonderful people for agreeing to go on this journey with me. You are incredibly, truly.
> 
> Please accept another humble offering as we continue on this rollercoaster ride of a story and I promise I will keep delivering until the very end. You have my word. I've put too much work and effort into this story to even think about abandoning it, it's become by baby, my heart, my life.
> 
> So far, I have made every effort to post a chapter a day at more or less the same time and while I can continue to promise you a chapter a day, it may not always be at the exact same time. I may occasionally decide to skip a day or two between posting another chapter with the sole purpose of teasing you and making you crave more and I will derive as much pleasure from it as Harry does when he teases Draco to the point of no return.s

* * *

_Slipping his arms tightly around Draco’s waist, Harry pressed himself flush against his back and dropped a kiss onto his neck. Draco shivered in his embrace. That was his first response. His second response was to put his knife down on the cutting board and flex his fingers._

_“You are distracting me, Potter,” he complained._

_To Harry it didn't sound like he meant it, in fact, he knew Draco didn't mean it. He was just joying with him. Because Draco enjoyed the game as much as Harry did. It was what made them such a perfect match. It was what made this whole thing so exciting and every single encounter a one-of-a-kind moment._

_“I know. I do love distracting you. Say, my sweet little prince do you think you would be able to keep chopping the vegetables while I yank your trousers down and fuck you against the kitchen counter? Hm? Would you?”_

_Harry murmured the teasing, yet utterly filthy, words against Draco’s neck. He'd chosen the place just below Draco's earlobe, where the flesh was soft and oh so sensitive. Harry let his lips linger there for a moment as he allowed Draco a few seconds to process his words, then, without warning, sank his teeth into Draco's neck and bit hard. He drew a long low anguished moan from Draco, who other than tilt his head, did not flinch away from Harry's possessive bite. Harry let the sting linger for a second or two, then gently soothed the abused flesh with a few caressing licks of his tongue and several tiny sweet kisses. He shoved his hands into the front pockets of Draco’s jeans and his fingertips brushed the outline of Draco’s exquisite cock ever so gently. It reacted with an interested twitch and Harry repeated the action._

_He suddenly wanted Draco to be achingly hard while he prepared dinner. He wanted him to be painfully aware of the level of power Harry had over him. The idea that Draco wanted to come but didn't have the permission to touch himself, completely excited Harry and he thrust his hips forward, pressing his own growing erection firmly against Draco's arse._

_Draco shuddered._

_“Do you ever think about anything else other than sex?” he mocked._

_Harry chuckled and kissed his neck softly, tenderly, lovingly — a stark contrast to the claiming mark he'd put there a mere minute ago; one that Draco wouldn't be able to hide during dinner. Harry intended to make sure of that. He wanted Draco to sit at the dinner table with his mark exposed, wanted Draco to have to sit through dinner knowing that everyone else knew that Harry had marked him, that he was owned, claimed. And know they would; even if they had no idea about the exact nature of the bitemark they would, at the very least, know that Harry had put it there._

_“Oh my sweet little prince, don’t tell me you’re not turned on by the image I just planted in your head…” Harry teased._

_“You know I am,” Draco said flippantly._

_His sassy response earned him a smack to the thigh._

_He yelped but pushed back against Harry and turning his head, he tilted it upward._

_“Kiss me,” he said._

_It was a demand, not a request and Harry smiled at the way Draco shamelessly puckered his lips, offering them up to him to claim in a fierce kiss. It was the perfect mixture of submission and sass, one that was so uniquely Draco, and Harry lived for it. He'd become a complete sucker for it, though he suspected he'd been one from the very start._

_“Before I indulge you, my sweet boy, I want you to answer my question. Tell me what you think about me fucking you against the kitchen counter,” Harry said._

_He kept his voice soft, yet made sure to give it a firm undertone and Draco, who had closed his eyes, opened them again and blinked several times. He had that dazed look in his eyes, the very one he got when he was about to go under and surrender. That moment when he tethered right on the edge between the confident independent prosecutor who talked back and was a sassy uncontrollable fury and the obedient sweet little prince who lived for Harry's praise, melted at the slightest touch, begged and pleaded and squirmed and did exactly what Harry wanted, no questions asked. It was like watching the sun set and rise at the same time and despite having seen it many times before, he still couldn't get enough of it. He doubted he ever would._

_“I think you may have to think about getting dinner delivered,_ Sir _, because that hard-on in my trousers is rather distracting me from cooking anything substantial. That’s what I think about the image you put in my head.”_

_Draco let out a soft, wistful sigh which turned into a whimper when Harry let his lips ghost over Draco's and they shared the same air._

_He was about to turn his head away but Harry was faster. He cupped Draco’s cheek with his hand, and firmly holding it in place, he captured Draco’s lips in a demonically passionate kiss, one that was designed to rob Draco of all his senses. Harry's other hand squeezed Draco’s hip, then travelled straight to Draco's cock. He kneaded it though his trousers and relished in the feeling it grow bigger and harder under his expert touch._

_Soon enough, Draco_ _attempted to thrust into his hand._

_Harry smacked his thigh, pulled away from the kiss and pierced Draco with a forbidding glare._

_“And it will keep distracting you, my little prince, because you're mine. I own you and it's my prerogative to distract when and however I please. As for dinner, if you don’t get it finished on time, then I'm afraid there will be absolutely no orgasm for you. You’ll go to bed with a throbbing cock standing hard and proud between your legs and if you dare to wank, if you defy my orders and attempt to satisfy yourself, I’ll make you come so many times you’ll cry and weep and beg me to stop.”_

_Harry whispered his devious little thread against Draco’s lips, brushing them as he spoke. He felt an immediate sense of satisfaction when Draco whimpered and his knees buckled a little as he struggled to remain fully upright. A rush of power flowed through Harry and his heart skipped a beat._

_“Harry— Sir—”_

_Draco's low mewl, filled with desperation and desire alike, made Harry's cock twitch with excitement. A rush of endorphins flowed through him, setting his body on fire._

_“Hm, yes, my love?”_

_“You’re such a bloody tease.”_

_Harry clicked his tongue._

_“Such terrible sass, I shall have to spank it out of you, you naughty boy.”_

_With those words, Harry peeled himself off Draco's back, grabbed his hips and pulled them back. Draco's hands slipped slightly and he had to brace himself on the kitchen counter as Harry forced him to bend over and offer him that sweet inviting curve of his taut buttocks, hidden away underneath a pair of jeans that fitted him like second skin. For a moment, Harry simply looked, then he raised his hand and firmly brought it down on Draco's left arse cheek. Since Harry hadn't bothered to yank his jeans down, the sound wasn't quite as satisfying than his bare hand striking Draco's naked arse but he'd purposefully used enough force to draw a startled yelp from Draco._

_Harry delivered four more blows of equal strength, then pulled Draco into his arms and kissed him gently._

_"There, that ought to do it," he whispered and reaching forward, he grabbed a piece of celery._ _He popped the crunchy vegetable into his mouth and smiled. Draco looked flustered and thoroughly distracted and Harry was rather pleased with himself._

* * *

* * *

Harry squeezed his thigh so hard that he had to avoid groaning. He resolutely forced his extremely filthy thoughts about ravishing and spanking Draco in his kitchen to the back of his mind — as much as he wanted to indulge in them and tease Draco until he begged for mercy, they had plans today and a rather tight schedule too.

It took quite a bit of effort for him to successfully control himself and pushing himself away from the doorframe, he'd been casually leaning against for the past ten minutes or so, he walked into the room and leant against the kitchen counter instead.

Upon his return to London, he had completely renovated and redesigned Grimmauld Place from top to bottom. It no longer held any resemblance with the dark and gloomy place it had once been when he'd first visited during his fifth year at Hogwarts. All the old Black family heirlooms, including the rather vocal painting of Walburga Black, were gone. He'd moved those to the Black family fault at Gringotts. The entire place was now considerably brighter and lighter and it felt like a proper home.

Following the extensive renovation and redesign, Grimmauld's kitchen was now half its original size. He had done away with the long, large kitchen table that had taken up most of the room’s space and replaced it with a much smaller table and four chairs. The ancient nineteenth century-style cupboards and counters were all gone; he'd exchanged them for a modern white fitted kitchen.

The pantry was now double its previous size and it was spacious enough to allow for food storage _and_ doing the laundry.

As part of the extensive renovations, Harry had also gotten rid of the formal sitting room — he had absolutely no use for it and preferred the much cosier living room.

What had once been a formal sitting room, or reception room, was now a comfortable dining room with a large round oak table and a cupboard to store the China, he saved for special occasions. Hermione had made him buy it and while he hadn't seen the necessity of it, she'd been adamant that it was something he absolutely had to have — since he had no desire to argue with his best friend, he'd tasked her with picking the design and then forked over a rather obscene amount of Muggle money.

If needed, a simple enlargement spell assured that up to sixteen people could comfortably sit around the large round oak table — though, thus far, there had been no need for that. Family dinners took place at the Burrow; that was a long-standing tradition and Harry had no intention of making new rules. He had no family of his own, yet, and he wasn't prepared to have it out with Molly Weasley for something as trivial as the location of a family dinner.

Still, having a proper dining room made him feel like the responsible adult he was supposed to be and generally also was.

Fully aware that he was drifting off into his own world again, Harry abandoned his musings in favour of reaching for a couple of carrot sticks Draco had prepared for something or other but before he had the change to grab them, Draco slapped his hand away.

Piqued over not having the permission to do as he pleased in his own kitchen, Harry glowered darkly and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Excuse me?” he said, rather indignantly.

When Draco turned his head, Harry gave him a pointed look but Draco merely smiled and didn’t look in the least intimidated. It made Harry want to throw his hands up in desperation and question whether he would ever manage to exercise any kind of control over Draco.

“If you’re not going to help me cook dinner, you aren’t allowed to steal food,” Draco said.

He held his gaze with frightful ease and Harry frowned.

“I am helping!” he responded, thoroughly affronted. “You banned me from the kitchen and told me to go set the table, which I did by the way, because, you know, I'm good like that.”

Draco laughed.

Harry instantly reverted to glaring icy daggers at him. He was supposed to be the one giving the orders. He was supposed to be the one in charge. Draco was supposed to obey him, not the other way around. Yet, somehow, today the tables were reversed and Harry found himself at the receiving end of Draco's orders. It wasn't something he was used to, ordinarily, he would never allow a sub that much control, it wasn't who he was, but Draco had the miraculous talent of taking whatever he wanted whenever he wanted.

Today, the kitchen was his and he didn't just act like he owned it, he did actually own it. There was no trace of his proclivity for submitting and being dominated. He was fully of sass, extremely bossy and no matter how many times Harry had tried to get the upper hand, he'd failed, repeatedly. It was vexing, truly vexing.

“Because you, my dearest Potter, weren’t following any of my instructions. What you were doing wasn't helping me cook, it was giving me more work. Since you’re back, I would just like to note that it’s evident that you have a serious problem with obedience.”

Harry wanted to laugh at the sheer absurdity of the situation. A few minutes ago, he'd been lost in a daydream about dominating Draco, filling his head with filth an spanking while bend over the kitchen counter, yet what was presently happening between Draco and him couldn't be further removed from the fantasy he'd indulged in earlier.

Not giving into his desire to show his amusement, Harry scowled darkly at Draco instead and just to prove that he could get his own way, if he so desired, especially in his own kitchen, he stubbornly stole a slice of carrot anyway and hastily stuffed it into his mouth. As he chewed, he kept his eyes firmly fixed on Draco, who boldly held his gaze and showed absolutely no inclination to giving in. If anything, he wore his sass with an air of confidence that made Harry want to take it from him.

Instead of surrendering to his desires, he used his words.

“That’s because I prefer to be the one who gives out instructions,” he said.

He lowered his voice to a dangerous growl and it finally had the desired effect.

Draco shuddered in response, broke their eye contact and silently returned to chopping vegetables. It was a small sign of surrender but a sign all the same and Harry basked in it. What made it extra sweet and special was the fact that Harry had absolutely no doubt that Draco's reaction had been entirely his own choice. He wasn't doing it out of fear but because he knew it pleased Harry and he enjoyed pleasing him, even if he was still learning the ropes and the in's and out's of what it meant to surrender to somebody to please them.

Harry remained where he was and simply watched Draco continue to prepare tonight's dinner. He appeared to be in his element, Harry could tell that much.

After a few minutes, Draco gently put the knife down and Harry reached out to take his hand. He wrapped his fingers around Draco's wrist, squeezed gently, then laced their fingers together and tugged ever so softly.

“Come here for a moment,” he said.

Harry continued to tug on Draco’s hand until he was standing right in front of him. Only then, did he let go of Draco’s hand and lovingly cradled his face with both his hands. He rested his thumbs on Draco's cheeks and let his fingers slip to the nape of Draco's neck to affectionately toy with his soft silken hair; he absolutely loved the feel of it underneath his fingers and looking deep into Draco's beautifully expressive silvery-grey eyes, he tried his best to read him.

“I need to know, so please tell me the truth and know whatever you say I _will not_ be offended by your choice but I will respect you and appreciate you for making it. The table is set for six. Are you _sure_ that you’re okay with Charlie and Ginny joining us on top of Hermione and Ron? I don’t want you to agree to this for my sake, I need to know you’re okay with this and that this is what you want. I can tell Charlie and Ginny to stay away, they won’t be offended and they won't think any less of you either, trust me.”

Harry watched Draco closely and saw the hesitation flicker across his face. It was obvious to Harry that he was seriously considering the choice; the temptation to take the easy way out was most definitely there — he wasn't trying to hide that, he was being deliberately open and honest and that little gesture meant the world to Harry.

In the end, and after that little moment of dithering as he considered his options, the words _uninvite them_ never made it past Draco's lips. Instead, his features hardened, as though he was trying to show Harry through his actions that he could handle absolutely everything but eventually, a small and very smug smile broke through.

Harry returned it instantly.

“Potter, if you think that I can’t handle three Weasleys and a Granger-Weasley, then you don’t know me very well,” Draco said.

He sounded full of confidence and so full of sass that Harry's first response was to chuckle incessantly — he had no doubt that Draco was telling him the truth.

When Draco, less than a minute later, quietly admitted that it was him, he couldn’t handle without going weak at the knees, he instantly stopped laughing.

A fiery sort of passion flared to life inside Harry’s chest and a hot wave of something intense, something incredibly possessive, spread from his core right through his body and straight into every single fibre of his being. In that very moment, it defined him.

“Don’t say such things and expect me not to make you want to kneel in front of me, my gorgeous little prince,” he whispered.

He watched as Draco swallowed hard, repeatedly cleared his throat, and eventually found enough energy to remind them both that he had agreed to cook tonight’s dinner.

Harry reluctantly let him go and summoning a glass, he filled it with cool water — he absolutely needed something to calm down. He perched himself on the small dining table, drank his water in silence and watched Draco move about his kitchen with a graceful sort of ease, he had never seen before. It seemed almost like he was dancing and it was beautiful to watch. It was completely addictive, too, and Harry doubted he'd ever tire of it.

 _I wish you would cook naked while wearing my collar around your neck_.

The thought jumped into Harry's head entirely without warning. He gripped his water glass tightly and looking down at his hand, he noted that his knuckles had gone white. Suddenly afraid that he'd end up breaking the glass and cut himself on the shards, he relaxed his grip somewhat. It would inevitably lead to him having to explain himself to Draco and at this moment in time, he simply wasn't prepared to do so.

 _You make me fight so hard to keep every ounce of self-control I have ever owned_.

Since Draco appeared to have dinner preparation completely under control, Harry decided to remove himself from the room. Being around Draco wasn't doing his sanity any good and somehow a couple of hours locked away in his study, working through the pile of reports he'd brought with him from the office, seemed like a very good idea.

On his way out, Draco called after him.

Pausing in the doorframe, Harry turned and raised his eyebrow.

“What is it?”

“I couldn’t decide what to wear for tonight’s dinner so I brought two outfits over with me. I’ve taken the liberty to lay them out on top of your bed. If you like, you may choose what I’ll be wearing later. I’ll put on whichever one you’d like to see me in, Sir,” Draco said.

A faint flush pinked his cheeks as he gnawed at his bottom lip, worrying it nervously.

Momentarily stunned into silence, Harry had to take a deep breath before he could even think about an appropriate response.

His mind was reeling and his heart pounded in his chest. He felt a bit like he was about to have his first kiss or enter the Great Hall at Hogwarts with his crush on his arm.

The butterflies in his stomach stubbornly refused to settle and abandoning all thoughts about leaving the kitchen, Harry walked right up to Draco and setting his glass down on the worktop, he trapped him between the kitchen counter and his own body. He kissed him hard and claimed his mouth in an almost bruising kiss that left them both gasping for air when he pulled away some time later.

 _Mine_ , he growled in his head, _mine, mine, mine_.

Draco’s eyes had darkened to the point that they looked like smouldering coal, rather than the clear silvery-grey orbs they usually were.

Harry was sure that his own eyes were equally as dark. Every single nerve ending in his body thrummed with the unquenchable desire to make Draco his. He was feeling incredibly possessive and for a moment, he wished that they didn’t have dinner plans tonight but that it was just the two of them and he could have his wicked way with Draco. He wanted it badly. He wanted Draco.

But he knew that he had to behave — at least until after dinner — and therefore limited himself to kissing Draco’s slightly swollen lips, fiercely claiming them as his own all over again.

He couldn’t help but applaud Draco; he played a truly good game and knew how to floor him by presenting him with a truly unexpected gift.

“Thank you, my little prince.”

“You’re welcome, _Sir_ , it's my pleasure.”

He lowered his gaze to stare at Harry’s chest, then brought his hand up to let it rest right above his heart, which promptly skipped a beat.

“Now, as much as I love the idea of letting _Sir_ have his wicked way with me, may I continue cooking please?”

 _For the love of Circe_ , Harry thought, _you have no idea what you’re doing to my sanity, you perfect, gorgeous creature_.

He scolded himself for his inability to keep it together, blamed it on Draco’s unexpected and unprompted submission and inclining his head, he left Draco to reign over the kitchen while he sought respite in the Master bedroom. Ascending the stairs took half an eternity, mainly because he nearly tripped over his own feet twice, and once on the landing on the second floor. He’d all but forgotten about his plan to head into his study to try and get some work done.

“Merlin, Potter, get a fucking grip on yourself, he’s supposed to be the submissive mess, not you,” he muttered to himself as he pushed the door to his bedroom open.

He walked inside, closed it behind him and leant back against the heavy wood, then closed his eyes, and tipping his head back, he let it rest against the door, and took a deep, calming breath.

_He wants it so badly and he doesn’t even realise it._

Harry sighed.

His thoughts were suddenly rampant with visions of Draco’s display of spontaneous submission.

 _It wasn’t spontaneous though, was it?_ a treacherous little voice in his head whispered, _he planned this, he planned it for you, he wanted you to have this little bit of control over him tonight_.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Harry took another deep breath, opened his eyes, and resolutely pushed away from the door. He slowly headed towards the bed and carefully examined the two outfits Draco had laid out for him to choose.

Imagining Draco in either one of them did nothing to calm Harry’s overactive mind and his thoughts unhelpfully drifted to the locked room on the fourth floor of Grimmauld Place, his own personal playroom. He yearned to take Draco inside. He wanted to show him everything, wanted to invite him to play but he was also a realist.

He knew that Draco wasn’t there yet, that he needed a little more time before he would be able to stomach the sight of a fully furnished BDSM playroom.

Still, it didn’t stop Harry from fantasising and before long he realised that half an hour had passed and he still hadn’t chosen an outfit.

He took another lengthy look at both outfits, contemplated for several moments and eventually settled on the grey skinny jeans with the crisp white button-up shirt. Draco had chosen a broad dark green belt to accessorise the outfit with and picking it up, Harry let the soft leather slide over his palm.

For a moment, Harry allowed himself to imagine tying Draco’s hands behind his back with the belt.

He imagined unbuttoning his shirt and teasing every inch of his chest, biting his nipples, and swirling his tongue around his navel.

He imagined trailing his kisses further south, undoing Draco’s jeans and roughly dragging them down to his knees, effectively restraining them.

He imagined sucking Draco, repeatedly bringing him to the brink of his orgasm, then imagined forcing Draco to clench his thighs around his cock as he fucked himself into a mind-blowing orgasm while Draco sobbed and begged for his own release.

Jerking out of the fantasy, Harry was suddenly all too aware of his own throbbing erection.

He dropped the leather belt onto the bed, picked up the black trousers and dark-green shirt, he didn’t want Draco to wear, and placed the two garments inside his own wardrobe.

Then, unable to focus until he got some relief, he headed into the bathroom and pulling his trousers open, he freed his cock.

He summoned the lube from his spacious shower room and liberally spread some on his hand he began to wank to the fantasy, he had only just dragged himself out of.

He was entirely uninterested in wasting any time on teasing himself and finished the job in a matter of minutes — he just needed to take the edge of, relax a little. It was a wank for the sake of a wank and while it was satisfying it wasn't nearly as pleasurable as making Draco take care of his erection. That appealed a lot more.

Harry came on a low grunt of Draco’s name, spelt his come off his hand and cast a strong cleaning charm over himself and especially his nether regions. He was still panting a little when he tugged himself back into his trousers and decided to distract himself with scrubbing his hands, then braced his wet hands on the bathroom sink and eyed himself in the mirror.

A silly grin joined his flushed cheeks and his dazed expression of pure post-orgasmic bliss.

 _All because of you, my little prince_ , he thought as his attention drifted back to Draco who was busy cooking in the kitchen downstairs.

Leaving his bathroom, Harry decided to head down back down into his study to get some work done after all. He did he have a few reports he needed to get through and the sooner he got them off his desk, the sooner he could forget about them, or so he hoped. When you were the Head of the British Auror Department something unexpected always turned up.


	29. Truce

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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>  [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)  
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> 
> 
> The very lovely _Domi_ shared a beautiful poem by **Atticus** with me, telling me that it described Harry's feelings for Draco in this story wonderfully and because I absolutely agree, I would like to share the poem with everyone, I hope it resonates as much with you as it did with me:  
> 
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>   
>  [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/40862676463/in/dateposted-public/)   
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> 
> With regards to the title of today's chapter, I would like to share a bit of food for thought with you:  
>  __  
>  ****
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>   
>  _We are human._   
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> __  
> ****
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>  _We are not perfect._   
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> __  
> ****
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>   
>  _We are alive._   
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> __  
> ****
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>  _We try things._   
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> __  
> ****
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>  _We make mistakes._   
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> __  
> ****
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>  _We stumble. We fall._   
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> __  
> ****
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>  _We get hurt._   
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> __  
> ****
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>  _We rise again._   
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> __  
> ****
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>  _We try again._   
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> __  
> ****
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>  _We keep learning._   
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>  _We keep growing._   
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>  _And..._   
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> __  
> ****
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>  _We are thankful for this priceless opportunity called life!_   
> 

* * *

Turning the hot water off, Draco stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist.

He finally felt refreshed and rejuvenated and decidedly more human than he’d done for most of the day — cooking was a pleasure, reeking of cooking oils and spices and other ingredients not so much.

Draco reached for a second towel, a much smaller one, and he dried his hair before casting a very mild drying charm over it.

Once done, he dried himself off and headed into Harry’s bedroom where he put on a pair of fresh grey boxer briefs and some grey socks. He sat down on the bed, reached for his crisp white button-up shirt, and slipping into it, he slowly buttoned it up, taking his sweet time with it.

Eventually, he stood, grabbed the grey skinny jeans, and holding on to them for a moment, he smiled and allowed a wave of still slightly unfamiliar emotions to wash over him. They consumed him in the most intense way and left him craving more, more, more.

Harry had chosen this outfit for him. He had done so because Draco had asked him to yet he knew that to Harry it meant so much more than that. It meant dominance to Harry and voluntary submission on Draco’s part. It was Harry’s thing and it was also rapidly becoming Draco’s thing. He enjoyed it far more than he could rationally understand, though somehow, he didn’t feel that he was necessary for him to fully understand it at this point in time. He wanted to simply enjoy. He wanted to explore all the new sensations; Harry kept introducing, though he was always careful to never give him more than he thought Draco could handle. It was that which sweetened the deal for Draco, that, and the fact that he trusted Harry to do the right thing. So far, he’d proven it several times over and Draco had no doubt that he would keep doing so.

 _He’s a bloody Gryffindor, it’s practically in his blood_ , he thought with an amused chuckle.

Draco looked down at the trousers in his hands. It felt oddly good to be putting on an outfit Harry wanted to see him in. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was something beyond exciting about leaving the decision up to Harry and he wanted to indulge in that sensation a lot more often.

He pulled his jeans on with one swift move, elegantly stepped into a pair of brand-new black Oxfords, he had bought especially for tonight’s dinner, and doing up his trousers, he looped his favourite dark green belt through the belt loops and fastened it.

One glance at the floor-length mirror told him that he looked better than _Witch Weekly’s_ average male model and smirking to himself, he returned to the bathroom to style his hair and apply some of his favourite cologne, which he knew Harry loved. He suspected it was the bergamot and oakmoss with its subtle undertones of sweet blackcurrant and vanilla that drew Harry in. He wore it almost exclusively. It made him feel strong and powerful and was especially useful to keep him focused in court.

Tonight, it was his very own version of a little Dutch courage.

Now that he didn’t have the distraction of preparing and cooking a four-course meal for six to keep him focused, he could feel the jitters starting to settle in and bracing himself on the bathroom sink, Draco stared at his reflection in the mirror.

 _You can do this_ ; he thought and briefly faked a smile, not because he really had to but because it gave him the confidence to convince himself that the night wasn’t going to disastrously end with a trip to the Department of Magical Accidents & Emergencies over at St Mungo.

He had told Harry that he could handle three Weasleys and a Granger but in truth, he wasn’t so sure.

Harry had given him an out earlier today but he had felt bad even thinking about it. He desperately wanted a chance at an amicable relationship with Harry’s friends.

They were all adults now, had all done a fair bit of growing up, surely it had to be possible to build bridges, make amends and leave the past where it belonged? He didn’t want Harry to have to live two lives; one with him and one that included his friends and family. It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t how he wanted their relationship to be. He wanted, no, _needed_ , it to be open and honest. He wasn’t going to be a dirty little secret that Harry kept hidden away from those nearest and dearest to him. If they wanted to judge him, if they wanted to have a go at him for all his past mistakes, well, he was more than ready to take it — or at least that’s what he told himself.

The butterflies in his stomach fluttered more insistently and taking a deep breath, Draco straightened himself up squared his shoulders.

“If you can stand up and argue a case in front of the entire Wizengamot, you can do this,” he mumbled and startled when a familiar voice agreed with him.

He turned his head and found Harry casually leaning against the bathroom doorframe.

“How long have you been standing there?” he asked.

Draco fervently hoped Harry hadn’t witnessed too much of his inner battle.

“Just long enough to hear you motivate yourself to face a bunch of Weasleys,” Harry said with a big grin.

Draco groaned in response to that.

“Charlie and Ginny are in the living room, they just arrived. Ron and Hermione are still trying to put the baby down. Apparently, Rosie won’t go to sleep without several lullabies from mummy _and_ daddy.”

“Weasley can sing?”

Draco raised a curious eyebrow and then turned to briefly cast one last look at his reflection. He nodded in approval — he most definitely looked presentable.

“Not even a little bit, but for whatever reason, Rosie seems to like it when they both sing to her. Then again, she’s just barely a year old so I think it’s more about the fact that mummy and daddy are both there.”

Draco scoffed and firmly resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“Someone needs to teach that child the meaning of good taste before Weasley causes irreparable damage.”

Harry laughed.

“I’m sure Hermione would be delighted if you offered to babysit.”

Harry pushed himself away from the doorframe and closed the distance between them. Draco felt his hands slide into his own and relished in the familiar body contact. It instantly made him feel safe and loved and he didn’t even feel embarrassed about his corny thoughts.

“I don’t know the first thing about babies,” he whispered truthfully.

Harry gave a low chuckle that travelled right down Draco’s spine and made him shiver pleasantly.

“They’re not that difficult to handle, you know. I’ve had a bit of practice with Teddy. Quite straight forward once you get the hang of it.”

Harry smiled.

“Come on, if I take much longer to bring you downstairs, Ginny is going to spend all evening making stupid jokes about the quick shag we didn’t have.”

As Harry dragged him from the bathroom, Draco was glad that they were holding hands. He drew an infinite amount of comfort from the intimate gesture and followed Harry down the stairs.

To distract himself from the nervous flutter in the pit of his stomach, he went over dinner one last time, though there was really no need to worry about anything. Still, it kept his mind occupied and didn’t give him the chance to contemplate running away.

The tomato-and-cucumber salad was chilling in the fridge, the bacon and cream cheese filled mushrooms were sitting on a serving tray on the kitchen counter — under a preserving charm, of course, and the rosemary roast chicken and potatoes were still in the oven. The oven was off but Draco had left the dish inside and put it under a Stasis Charm to keep the food hot, warm, and tasty — it would be a while before they got to the main course.

The glasses of orange, honey and lavender posset were in the pantry, also under a Stasis Charm to keep it cool.

 _Perfect_ , Draco thought and taking a deep breath, he entered the living room a split-second after Harry.

“I managed to convince him to stop hiding upstairs,” Harry said.

Draco resisted the temptation to glare daggers at Harry’s back.

Instead, he found himself giving Charlie Weasley an almost appreciative once-over.

He was wearing a pair of dark blue jeans, a black button-up shirt, and a dark brown worn dragonhide leather jacket on top. It made him look slightly scruffy and quite casual but the outfit suited him perfectly. He was tall, taller than Draco had imagined him to be. His dishevelled ginger hair was almost as messy as Harry’s, with the small difference that Charlie somehow managed to make it look like a hairstyle, while Harry’s unruly hair was just that, _unruly_.

Charlie’s piercing blue eyes were a little unsettling but his smile was warm and inexplicably drawn to it, Draco stretched his hand out to greet him.

“Hi,” he said.

He was suddenly quite unsure of what else to say or how to start the conversation and somehow, a casual _hello_ seemed to be the best way to go about it.

He didn’t know much about Charlie. Harry has given him a little bit of information but Draco didn’t feel confident to crack a joke or make a snide remark.

No, he wanted to make a good first impression.

“Hello,” Charlie winked.

He accepted Draco’s outstretched hand and shook it.

“Congratulations on turning Harry’s head. If one can believe the rumours in the Prophet, many have tried to capture Harry’s heart but apparently, so far, none have succeeded. That is until you came along, of course.”

Draco resisted rolling his eyes and smiled instead. He desperately hoped that it wasn’t a fake smile. Charlie’s open approval of their relationship made his heart flutter but it also made him feel rather embarrassed.

He felt Harry’s hand slip possessively around his waist and squeeze his hip gently and grateful for the silent support, he felt himself relax considerably.

“Draco had Harry’s heart the very first time he mocked him when they were eleven. Harry just didn’t know he’d given it away. Took him some sixteen years to work out where he’d misplaced it,” Ginevra Weasley piped up.

Turning his head, Draco looked at the beautiful young witch, really looked at her. Her long fiery-red hair loosely cascaded down over her shoulders and her bright yellow summer dress hugged her athletic body in all the right places. Feeling just a little jealous, Draco reminded himself that he was with Harry now and that it didn’t matter that Harry and Ginevra had once been an item — even if that relationship had only lasted some five minutes. He forced yet another smile and was about to extend his hand to greet Ginevra Weasley when Harry spoke up.

“Watch your sass, _Ginevra_.”

Harry scolded her outright.

She gave him _do-it-if-you-dare_ kind of look and Draco couldn’t help but warm up to her — he liked that woman, liked her very much.

“I’d like to see you try to do anything about it, Harry James Potter.”

Ginevra teased Harry boldly and Draco pressed his lips together to cover up his smirk but Ginevra caught it and gave him a tiny wink — strangely enough, it made him feel like they were partners-in-crime and a wonderful sort of warmth spread through him, one he hadn’t felt in quite a long time.

“I absolutely will if you don’t behave yourself,” Harry said.

Draco turned his head just in time to see him scowl. He couldn’t quite decide whether Harry was seriously angry or whether he and Ginevra usually conversed like this but he still found the way Ginevra stood up to Harry, without as much as batting an eyelid, thoroughly exciting.

It also fuelled his mild bout of jealousy a little, but he did his best to suppress the unwanted emotion — and reasoned that there was absolutely no point to it.

Ginevra laughed.

“Give it your best shot, Golden Boy,” she said.

A moment later, she yelped and rubbed her shoulder.

“Potter, did you just freaking throw a stinging hex my way, you bloody bastard?”

Harry threw his head back and laughed.

“You know I did.”

It took him a moment to calm, then he turned his attention to Draco.

“She’s quite the minx, that one is, needs a pretty firm hand. It takes a special sort of person to be able to handle her.”

Draco frowned, unsure what to make of Harry’s comment. The fact that Harry clearly was in a sassy mood didn’t help and only made reading between the lines that much harder.

Was he trying to tell him that Ginevra Weasley was a kind of girl who enjoyed submitting to someone?

Try as he might, Draco could not imagine anyone being able to take control from Ginevra.

She seemed to be a spirited ungovernable sort of soul.

Was she like Harry then?

Did she enjoy controlling somebody else?

Draco felt his frown deepen as his confusion increased.

Harry had told him that Charlie was in a long-term D/s relationship and that he shared a cottage with his partner near the dragon reserve in Romania, where he worked, but somehow Draco could not imagine that Ginevra Weasley also had the same kind of penchant for kink.

 _Maybe it runs in the family_ , Draco mused but had to cut his thoughts short when the fireplace chimed and green flames roared to life.

A moment later, none other than Hermione Granger stepped through.

She looked absolutely stunning with her long, bushy hair bound together in a high ponytail that gave her both an incredibly youthful, yet utterly womanly look. She was wearing a pair of light-blue leggings, though Draco couldn’t decide whether they were real or painted on, they looked to be that tight.

Her high-heels elongated her legs wonderfully and she wore a long loose white blouse which she had accessorised with a broad brown waist belt — Draco searched his memory frantically for a memory of Hermione Granger looking his fashionable and high-class but he drew a complete blank.

She’d looked cute in that gorgeous dress at the Yule Ball, or so Pansy Parkinson had repeatedly insisted, but Draco thought that it was nothing compared to the truly stunning woman she’d turned into. She was slim, toned and slightly tanned and Draco had a hard time believing that she was the mother of a tiny being. She looked like she’d stepped straight off a catwalk, rather than the nursery of her child.

Draco boldly dared to take a closer look and noted that Hermione Granger hadn’t bothered to put on any make-up. Well, she was wearing a light glossy lipstick but other than that she’d gone au naturale and a hint of dark circles underneath her eyes gave away that she was indeed a sleep-deprived mother with a full-time job.

The fireplace chimed again and Ron Weasley stepped into the room.

He wore a pair of plain blue jeans, white runners, and a t-shirt with the slogan _Coolest Dad Ever_.

Draco purposefully kept his expression neutral but couldn’t quite contain the mild shiver that went through him. He was most grateful when Harry squeezed his hip reassuringly.

“Well, now that everyone’s here, I hope you’re all starving. Draco slaved away in the kitchen all afternoon to cook us something delicious,” Harry said.

“Figures you’d make him slave away in the kitchen while you laze about the house,” Ginevra mocked.

Clearly, Harry’s stinging hex had done nothing to dampen her ardent personality, Draco thought.

“I didn’t _slave_ ,” Draco muttered under his breath.

He shot Harry an icy look but Harry merely chuckled.

“Apologies, I stand corrected, after all, one must not get his facts wrong when in the presence of a hotshot prosecutor. The only person who slaved away today was me, completing case reports in my office while my gorgeous boyfriend here had fun in the kitchen,” he said.

Draco contemplated whether drawing his wand and hexing Harry was worth risking the retaliation of three Weasleys and one Hermione Granger. He decided that it wasn’t and flashing everyone his best smile, he continued to remain civil.

“If you’ll all just follow Harry into the dining room? I’ll bring the appetisers and starters right out,” he said, then politely excused himself and left the living room.

Once in the hallway, Draco took a deep breath, wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and headed for the basement kitchen.

“You heard the man,” he caught Harry say as he ushered their guests into the dining room. “We best obey and honour his wishes.”

Once in the kitchen, Draco opened the fridge, pulled out a half-full bottle of white wine and summoning a glass, he poured himself a generous amount. He gulped it down hastily and breathed deeply.

For a moment, he felt tempted to pour himself a refill but knowing that he had to levitate a tray with six bowls of salad and another tray with six plates of stuffed mushrooms into the dining room, he decided against relying on more wine to get him through the evening — corny as he thought it sounded, even in his own head, he had Harry.

Instead, he drew his wand and summoned a large tray, placed it on the worktop beside the fridge and transferred all six bowls of salad on it.

He carefully levitated the salad tray and the tray with the stuffed mushrooms to hover in front of him and keeping his wand steady, he guided both trays to float ahead of him into the dining room.

Harry had, in the meantime, dutifully poured everyone a glass of white wine as well as a glass of water and setting the two trays down on top of a nearby cabinet, Draco snapped his fingers and directed all six bowls of salad to gently land in front of everybody. He did the same with the plates of stuffed mushroom and quietly took his seat between Harry and Hermione Granger.

“Please, eat.”

He invited everyone to start the meal and caught the disdainful look Ron Weasley gave his salad.

For just a second, Draco felt the urge to transfigure his salad into a bowl full of slugs but he consoled himself with the fantasy instead.

“The salad’s delicious.”

Harry’s praise sent a shudder of excitement through him and Draco relished in the reassuring touch when Harry briefly squeezed his leg, just above his knee.

“Thank you,” Draco smiled somewhat shyly.

Whenever Harry praised him it did funny things to him and it instantly made him crave more. Those sweet words of approval, the warm looks, the gentle touches, Draco wanted it so much. He couldn’t resist it. Getting Harry’s approval absolutely felt like his weak spot; it was what made him want to surrender to Harry and what turned him into putty. He suspected that Harry knew, there was no way that he didn’t, and the knowledge that Harry had that kind of power over him made Draco shudder with a kind of anticipation he’d never ever felt before.

To distract himself, he picked up his fork and started to eat.

He felt just a little light-headed and needed to something to soak up the large glass of wine he had just consumed.

“Harry’s quite right, this salad is delicious,” Hermione Granger said.

Draco whipped his head around, staring at her with utter disbelief.

“Err, thanks,” he mumbled.

He was unable to do anything to stop the flush that crept up onto his face and coloured his cheeks.

“Harry mentioned that you cook,” she said conversationally.

Draco couldn’t help but wonder whether she was putting up a brave front for Harry’s sake or whether she was genuinely trying to be polite. He instantly berated himself for his mistrust. Since her arrival at Grimmauld Place, Hermione Granger had been nothing but polite and if she was trying then Draco was determined to do the same.

“Stress-relief,” he shrugged.

“I picked it up while working as a public defender. Needed something to distract me from the lack of support you get from just about everywhere when you’re barely getting paid anything while you try your hardest to try and keep somebody out of Azkaban.”

“That job is a royal pain in the rear,” Hermione nodded.

After a brief pause and a smile, she added something that made Draco want to recoil in horror.

“We should exchange recipes sometime.”

He couldn’t, for the life of him, work out whether she was being genuine or whether her words were code for _let’s-have-a-serious-talk-about-the-fact-that-you-are-shagging-my-best-friend._

“Are you sure your husband would be okay with finding me sitting in your kitchen when he comes home from work?”

The question slipped out before Draco had any chance to stop it.

“You know, I don’t quite care whether he would be okay with that, he’s just going to have to find a way to deal with it,” Granger smiled.

Draco watched Ron stuff a large forkful of salad into his mouth in response and made the spontaneous decision that he quite liked this older version of Hermione Granger. He’d despised here in school, largely because his father had forced outdated and ridiculous beliefs on him but also because she was smart, clever, and excelled at every single subject — seemingly without trying. He was sure that she was in line for the position of Minister for Magic at some point.

“Why don’t you two skip the sharing of recipes and just go shopping so you can gossip about me?”

Harry joined into the conversation and everyone at the table, apart from Ron, chuckled.

“Wouldn’t it make more sense for me to go shopping with Ginevra?” Draco teased.

“Call me Ginny,” Ginevra— _Ginny_ corrected with a lop-sided grin.

“Only my mother calls me Ginevra. I’ve been trying to entice her to stop but my mother isn’t the kind of woman who accepts orders from anyone.

Mind, Harry likes to call me Ginevra too. For some ridiculous reason, he thinks it’ll make me listen to anything he’s got to say. Your salad and those mushrooms are really good by the way.”

“I second that,” Charlie nodded. “My Liam is quite apt in the kitchen but you’ve got something special, Draco. This tastes like home, like love.”

Draco looked down at his salad to hide his blush. Not sure what to say, he thanked everyone and ate one of his stuffed mushrooms.

Everyone, except for Ronald Weasley, of course, was being nice, genuinely nice, and Draco didn’t quite know what to do with it or how to handle it.

He wondered what Harry had told his friends about him.

 _Maybe he threatened to hex them_ , Draco mused and reprimanded himself for being stupid.

He washed his stuffed mushroom down with a large gulp of water and dropping his left hand under the table, he hesitatingly placed it on Harry’s thigh.

A moment later, Harry covered it with his own hand and squeezed gently, providing silent reassurance and support.

“They genuinely want to get to know you and I think they already like you.”

He leant in and whispered a little more praise directly into his hear. Draco could feel his cheeky smile and even though he couldn’t see his face, he was sure Harry had winked at him.

Unsure of what to respond to that, Draco quietly finished his salad but couldn’t stop himself from every so often sneaking a sideways glance at Harry.

They continued to hold hands under the table until Ginny made a joke about them acting like loved-up teenagers.

“You’re just jealous.”

Draco muttered under his breath but smiled.

Ginny laughed heartily.

“Nah, Drake, you can keep _Director_ Potter there all for yourself. I hear he’s got a penchant for blondes lately and these days I’m not all that interested in brooms — at least not the ones you two are interested in if you get my drift.”

Draco shuddered at the way Ginny had just butchered his given name but decided to let her get away with it.

For now, anyway.

Although, he figured not correcting her now meant that she would forever use that blasted butchered version of his name.

Draco decided he still didn’t care enough to set her straight.

“I get you,” he said.

His smile promptly turned into a smirk when Ron choked on a cucumber dice and Hermione had to repeatedly pat him on the back.

“I truly hope the Holyhead Harpies lose the next game.”

Harry snarled at her and Ginny pretended to look horror-stricken.

“ _Harry_ , why would you say such a dreadful thing?”

She exclaimed, delivering the line with a perfectly pouty expression that was entirely fake.

“Because you have a loose mouth, _Ginevra_.”

Harry glared and deciding to somehow diffuse the situation, even though there wasn’t really anything to diffuse, Draco rose to his feet and announced that he would bring the main course out shortly.

Upon leaving the room he heard Ginny tell Harry that for as long as she was a Chaser the Holyhead Harpies would not lose a single game.

“It’s always the same with you Chasers, no respect for the Seeker.”

Harry’s retort was swift and Draco thought he heard Hermione groan. A short moment later, Ron joined into the conversation to inform everyone that no team was worth shit without a decent Keeper.

“You’re all dunderheads, a Quidditch team without a great Captain at the helm is just a bunch of wizards and witches on brooms.”

Charlie silenced them all and with a smirk, Draco made his way into the kitchen.

 _Logically Charlie has a point but I’ll take Harry’s side_ , he thought with a grin as he levitated the large baking tray of rosemary roast chicken and potatoes out of the oven and placed it on the wooden worktop. Draco cast _Diffindo_ several times to slice the chicken and grabbing a wooden chopping board, he levitated the makeshift tray in front of him and returned to the dining room.

Apparently, Harry and his friends still hadn’t come to a unanimous decision over which Quidditch player was the most important asset of the team.

Draco was content to listen but otherwise stayed out of the debate. He silently collected all the salad bowls and appetiser plates and when he was about to start serving the main course, he found Harry at his side, stopping him from doing so. His arm found its way around Draco’s waist and he squeezed gently, then leant in to kiss him. It was only a kiss on the cheeks but it was enough to fluster Draco.

“Sit down, my love, I’ll do this,” he said.

Draco raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

Harry smiled and gave him a gentle nudge into the direction of his seat, clearly the decision on who would serve the main course was not up for debate.

“Aww, you lovesick dorks! Everyone, listen to this. Just get married already, will you?”

Ginny teased them both and as he sat down Draco flushed bright red.

Harry growled although the amused expression on his eyes let Draco believe that he wasn’t in the least embarrassed about Ginny’s joke.

“Charlie, do me a favour and restrain your baby sister before I hang her upside down in my dungeon!”

Charlie roared with laughter.

“No can do, there are no shackles in this world that can hold down my sister.”

 _Dungeon_? Draco thought with a mild frown.

Harry had a dungeon?

In the cellar?

Was that why Harry had insisted on getting the wine for tonight’s dinner?

Vowing to ask Harry about it later and feeling a bit uneasy, Draco busied himself with drinking a little more wine — he didn’t really want to imagine what Harry’s dungeon might look like. He allowed Hermione to engage him in a conversation and was grateful for the distraction.

Once Harry finished serving the main course, the chatter around the table died down a little as everyone busied themselves eating.

Draco got a few compliments on his food and the praise caused his cheeks to pink, although at this stage he wasn’t sure anymore whether it was just the praise or the wine he kept drinking whenever he didn’t know what to contribute to the conversation.

He felt pleasantly inebriated but couldn’t pinpoint whether that was because Harry’s friends were welcoming him with open arms and actively giving him a chance, or whether he was just getting drunk.

He tried to pace himself by drinking water instead but when the feeling refused to ebb away, he gradually relaxed and shared a few anecdotes of his past cases when Charlie asked about his work as a prosecutor for the Wizengamot.

Towards the end of the main course, Harry got up to make a toast and when he pulled Draco to his feet, wrapped an arm around his shoulder and hugged him tight, a big lump made its presence known in Draco’s throat and when his eyes prickled with unshed tears, he quickly excused himself to the kitchen where he braced himself on the worktop and inhaled deeply.

A few minutes later, Harry appeared and hugged him from behind.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

Closing his eyes, Draco tilted his head slightly to the side and exhaled audibly when Harry placed first one gentle kiss on his exposed neck and then left a whole trail over them behind.

“Yeah,” Draco whispered.

“I just thought there’d be more animosity, you know.”

“I didn’t just tell them that we’re dating, you know? I told them that I love you,” Harry said.

He pressed yet another kiss against his neck. Draco had lost count of how many kisses Harry had given him but he never wanted him to stop. Harry’s embrace and his soft kisses felt so incredibly right and he felt so perfectly safe.

Draco sighed contently and when Harry tightened his hold on him, yet another wave of safety washed over him.

“Can you do that thing you do with my wrists?”

Draco asked sheepishly.

Harry chuckled into his neck and both the sound and the gentle vibrations made him shudder.

A moment later, Harry wrapped his hand around his left wrist and circled his thumb over his pulse point. His left hand remained firmly locked around Draco’s waist, something Draco was most grateful for.

“I’ve got you, my little prince,” Harry whispered.

Draco shuddered. He didn’t dare to think about anything but allowed his mind to remain pleasantly blank.

“I’ll take care of you, always, no questions asked.”

Draco felt himself gradually relax as Harry’s gentle words washed over him and his thumb on his pulse point eased some of the tension he felt.

Harry trailed several kisses along his neck, nibbled at his earlobe and sucked it into his mouth.

“I’ll take care of you properly later when we’re all alone and when it’s just us, with absolutely no interruptions. I promise I’ll make you feel so good.”

The murmured promise had Draco tremble with anticipation.

A few moments of silence past, then a knock on the open kitchen door interrupted their little moment and Draco felt Harry grudgingly pull away from him and turn around.

Draco took a deep breath, did the same and looked rather surprised to find Ron standing in the doorway, hands awkwardly shoved into his jean pockets.

He looked like he didn’t really want to be here and after a moment of awkward silence, he cleared his throat, shuffled from one foot to the other and spoke.

“Harry, could I have a moment alone with Malfoy?”

Turning to look at him, Harry raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

Draco inclined his head in silent approval and kissing his cheek, Harry made his way out of the kitchen.

As he passed Ron, he patted him on the shoulder and reminded him that “it’s Draco, Ronald,” then went to join Hermione, Ginny, and Charlie in the dining room.

“Err—” Ron said.

He looked uneasy and embarrassed and biting back a sigh, Draco pushed himself away from the kitchen counter.

“I just came in to get the dessert,” he justified fleeing the dining room, even though he had no idea why he had just done that. It wasn’t like he owed Ron an explanation.

Still, now that he’d said it, he automatically moved over to the pantry and pulling the door open, he drew his wand and mumbled the incantation for the levitation spell.

A moment later, a tray with six glasses of posset floated out and landed neatly on the worktop.

“Look—” Ron started again, then broke off.

Draco turned to hear him clear his throat.

He felt as awkward as Ron acted but was marginally better at concealing his own emotions while Ron clearly wore them on his sleeve. Deciding to jump over his own shadow, he took a deep breath and prepared himself to speak.

“I’m sorry for that verbal attack in Harry’s office the other day.”

Draco fervently hoped that he sounded sincere. He was sincere, he really hadn’t meant to attack Ron like that.

“Likewise,” Ron nodded.

“Look, Malfoy, I don’t have a problem with you as such, I mean I don’t think we’ll ever be best mates, but let’s try and be civil with each other, OK? Harry’s obviously completely smitten with you and I’ve not seen him this happy before, he deserves it. It’s just a bit much that it’s you who is making him this happy, but I’ll get over it, I know I will.”

“I’m not messing with him if that’s what you’re worried about, I genuinely like— _love_ him,” Draco said.

He felt completely out of his depth.

His hands were shaking so badly that he moved them behind his back to clasp them so tightly together that he could barely stop himself from grimacing.

“I’m not worried. It’s just, Harry’s my best mate, and I— I’m not— I’m not too great with change. You can ask— ask Harry, if you like, he’ll tell you all about it.”

“Hit you hard when he just up and left the country after everything, huh?”

Draco prodded gently. When Ron nodded, he managed a weak smile. Much to his astonishment, Ron smiled in return and then did something that left Draco speechless for several minutes.

He stepped fully into the kitchen, pulled his hand out of his jean pocket, and offered it to him.

“Truce?”

Draco stared at Ron’s offered hand for a few seconds as his mind treacherously replayed that moment on the train when he had offered Harry his hand, offered him his friendship and Harry had turned him down.

Resolutely unclasping his hands, Draco reached out and shook Ron’s hand.

“Truce,” he said.

He was rather amazed that his voice sounded steady and firm instead of croaky and shaky.

“Do you want some help with levitating the dessert into the dining room?” Ron asked.

“If you don’t mind,” Draco shrugged.

“I don’t.”

“Well in that case, and if your hand is steadier than mine, be my guest.”

Draco smiled and waited for Ron to levitate the dessert tray before he slowly followed him up the stairs, through the hallway and into the dining room.

They served dessert together and Draco blushed furiously when Hermione gave him the thumbs up and Harry announced loudly and unabashedly that he was head over heels in love with him.


	30. What Do You Want

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)
> 
> Well, time for another chapter.  
> Thank you for your continued support and all your lovely messages, you are such wonderful people. I promise, I will take some time to answer all of you, I just need to get rid of my fever first.  
> Also, this story will absolutely be uploaded in its entirety but on my terms.
> 
> Do enjoy.  
> P.S. The mean notes can be found at the end.

* * *

Nine pm found Draco, having used magic to clean the massive stack of dirty dishes in the kitchen, sitting cross-legged in the centre of Harry’s bed, waiting for him to emerge from the bathroom.

He had tried to read a little bit but the book he hadn’t been able to put down the previous evening now lay open and abandoned on the bed. He simply couldn’t concentrate on it, although there didn’t seem to be an obvious reason for his inability to focus or if there was a reason it wasn’t entirely apparent to him.

Draco clasped his hands together and twisting his head around, he looked at the comfortable cushions behind him. He yearned to lie down, stretch his limbs, and close his eyes, but he was edgy and tense.

Tonight’s dinner with Harry’s friends had taken it out of him and it all still felt a little surreal, to say the least, but it also made him giddy.

Harry’s willingness to introduce him to his friends and the fact that Harry’s friends, given his past and the history between them, were prepared to accept him meant the world to him.

Still, he felt mentally and physically exhausted — not necessarily in a bad way but he wanted something to take his mind off things.

Unfortunately, so far, nothing he’d tried had worked. Then again, he hadn’t made all that much of an effort. He was still trying to digest the tentative peace treaty Ron had offered.

Draco had no idea whether Ron had come looking for him out of his own volition or whether Hermione had pushed him into doing it, but thinking about it and trying to work it all out had given him an epic headache and so simply he’d stopped thinking altogether. He let his mind drift but didn’t allow it to settle on a thought or idea, or at least he tried not to allow it to settle but wasn’t entirely successful in his endeavour.

Harry’s earlier promise to take care of him and to make him feel good suddenly echoed in his mind and made calming down even more of an impossibility.

Mind-blowing, toe-curling, feverish, unadulterated sex with Harry most definitely had the ability to take his mind of absolutely everything and reduce him to a pliable mass of goo but at this stage, he knew Harry well enough to always expect the unexpected.

Draco’s deliciously sleazy thoughts resulted in his cock showing signs of define interest and he resolutely abandoned a rather kinky fantasy about Harry restraining him to the bed and having his wicked way with him.

He tried to focus on a bunch of decrees and policies which were so absurd that they regularly made his job a living nightmare, but his mind continued to stray.

It stubbornly wandered off and now thoughts about Harry’s offhanded comment about hanging Ginny upside down in his dungeon kept filling his mind.

That thought refused to leave him alone and earlier on when he’d been about halfway through cleaning the dishes, he’d found himself suddenly unable to concentrate on anything else. He had made it as far as the pantry, had walked right up to the door that let down to the cellar, had even put his hand on the doorknob but something had stopped him and he’d returned to finish up the dishes, then hastily made his way upstairs to wait for Harry to get out of the shower.

Taking a deep breath, Draco tried to unclasp his fingers and twisted them into the summer quilt which covered Harry’s bed. He blankly stared at the open book in front of him and tried to imagine what Harry’s dungeon might look like. Strangely enough, he couldn’t stop picturing shackles and iron chains. He had a distinct feeling that he was being entirely ridiculous but he couldn’t quite control his thoughts.

When the bed suddenly dipped, Draco yelped and nearly jumped half a mile out of his skin.

“What’s the matter?”

Harry sounded entirely too concerned.

Draco sighed and regretted his rather over the top reaction.

He hadn’t meant to worry Harry.

Focusing, he looked at Harry and instantly felt his mouth go dry as every single coherent thought he’d ever had in his entire life escaped him.

 _Fucking hell_ , he thought.

Harry looked downright fuckable.

While Harry had dried himself off, his hair was still damp. Even in that state, it managed to look truly unruly and wild.

Instead of dressing properly, Harry had slipped into a pair of light blue ripped jeans which hung low on his hips — he looked positively edible. Draco liked jeans but up until right now, he’d never had a kink for them. Seeing Harry in that very pair had instantly changed all that, quite possibly forever.

To make matters worse, Harry’s chest was bare and Draco’s fingers itched, they truly itched; so much that he could barely control himself.

He wanted to run his fingers over Harry’s warm skin.

He wanted to feel every ripple of muscle and trace every imperfection.

He wanted to feel Harry’s heartbeat and kiss every inch of him.

He wanted to worship that body so badly.

Right this moment, Draco couldn’t come up with a single thing he’d ever wanted quite as much as to please Harry.

He had no idea whether Harry had somehow read his mind or whether he had inadvertently voiced his wish but when Harry placed his hand on top of his own, Draco immediately stopped twisting his fingers into the quilt and allowed Harry to guide his hand to his chest.

Draco splayed his fingers out over Harry’s chest and pressed his palm against the warm skin, relishing in the fact that he was able to feel the steady beat of Harry’s heart.

He let out a small appreciative sigh and when Harry crawled onto the bed and gently eased him onto his back, Draco fell willingly. He effortlessly spread his legs and let Harry slip in-between.

Harry’s hand travelled up his outer thigh, squeezed his hip, slid underneath his shirt, and settled low on his waist.

Draco was about to wrap both his arms around Harry’s neck but he gently shook his head.

“Above your head,” Harry whispered the command.

Draco didn’t even hesitate.

He obediently moved his arms to rest above his head and felt his breathing quicken as he stared up at Harry. He opened his mouth, wanted to say something, but Harry shook his head again and when he shuffled and pressed his mouth against a tiny spot of exposed skin just above the button of his jeans, Draco couldn’t help but whimper.

Harry didn’t bother to remove his shirt but pushed it up and trailed tiny kisses all over his stomach and chest. His hands slid up Draco’s sides, over his armpits, the inside of his upper arms, and along his forearms.

Draco shivered, not because he was cold but because he was excited.

Harry’s hands slipped into his and he effortlessly laced their fingers together.

As if on autopilot, Draco squeezed and Harry smiled softly then captured his lips in a ferociously passionate kiss.

When Harry’s tongue demanded access to his mouth, Draco gave it enthusiastically and willingly and when Harry’s crotch pressed against his own, further pinning him into the mattress, Draco moaned into the kiss and tried arching his back.

A wave of emotions, none of which he was able to properly identify, washed over him and he lost himself in the thrill of it all.

A moment later, Harry pulled away and Draco instantly felt naked and incredibly vulnerable. Somehow, it felt like Harry had stripped him bare and had exposed his soul without even taking any of his clothes off.

“What do you need, my little prince? How can I make you feel better?”

Harry suddenly spoke, his voice soft and gentle.

It took a moment before the words cut through the haze in his mind. Draco swallowed hard and opening his eyes, he stared straight into Harry’s vibrantly green eyes.

 _Too green, too damn green_ , he thought and blinked a few times, unsuccessfully trying to focus at least a little bit.

Weirdly enough it felt like Harry could hold him down with just a look — no restraints required. The desire to move was the last thing that was presently on Draco’s mind and he wasn’t even entirely sure whether his limbs still functioned properly.

“Do you really have a dungeon?”

He blurted the words to his question, which had been tormenting him ever since Harry had made that blasted comment, out without even thinking about it.

* * *

* * *

Harry stared down at Draco, suppressed the urge to frown, and took a moment to digest the unexpected question.

He had been prepared for absolutely everything, even Draco asking to spend the night alone in his Notting Hill flat but he had most definitely not been prepared for _this_.

Why was Draco asking whether he had a dungeon?

Had either Ginny or Charlie offhandedly said something when he hadn’t been listening?

Was Draco freaking out about something or other again?

Letting out a breath he hadn’t quite known he’d been holding; Harry drew away and sat back on his haunches.

He pulled Draco into a sitting position but refrained from letting go of his hands.

“Why do you ask?”

Harry deliberately kept his voice low, soft, and gentle. He watched Draco very closely and very carefully.

Draco gnawed at his bottom lip and his cheeks flushed. He looked thoroughly embarrassed and hurriedly averted his eyes.

Harry let go of Draco’s hand and placing two fingers underneath his chin, he coaxed him into looking up and meeting his eye.

“Tell me,” he insisted.

Draco swallowed hard and remained silent for another minute or two, then finally spoke.

“At dinner— You said you were going to hang Ginny upside down in your dungeon if she didn’t behave herself,” Draco whispered.

Harry felt him try and turn his head away again but he didn’t let him.

Instead, he smiled and leaning in he pressed his lips against Draco’s.

It was a chaste kiss but it was enough to ease Draco’s mind a little, of that he was sure.

“It was a joke,” he said earnestly.

“I do not have a dungeon. I mostly use the cellar to store wine and a couple of other things that I don’t want cluttering up the place. You can check it out for yourself if you’re curious. I can assure you there’s nothing kinky down there. No hooks or chains and definitely no shackles.”

Harry paused.

He was a little unsure of how honest to be with Draco. He hadn’t yet told Draco about his upstairs playroom but the situation was delicate and he felt withholding that piece of information now would lead to more trouble in the future. After a very moment of hesitation, he chose complete honesty.

“I do however have a playroom,” he said.

Draco’s forehead creased as he frowned and Harry squeezed his hand gently. He was certain what Draco’s next question would be, but he could tell that he was struggling with asking for what a part of him clearly wanted. He gave Draco another few moments to wrangle with himself, then stepped in to put his mind at ease.

“Draco, would you like to see it?”

He was still convinced that Draco wasn’t ready to step into a fully furnished BDSM playroom, which could feel imposing at the best of times, and especially after a mentally exhausting day but he was also sensible enough to leave the decision up to Draco.

There was, and Harry was painfully aware of it, always the possibility that seeing the room might send Draco running for the hills but he decided to cross that bridge when they came to it.

“Can I?”

Draco’s sudden, and somewhat uncharacteristic, shyness was rather endearing and Harry gave his hand another comforting squeeze. He smiled softly, reassuringly.

“Of course.”

“Tonight?”

“If you want, yes. The room is upstairs.”

With that, Harry let go of Draco’s hand and holding his hand out, he summoned a shiny golden key from inside the top drawer of his nightstand.

It flew into the palm of his outstretched hand and reaching for Draco’s hand, he gently placed it in his palm and folded his fingers around it.

Draco swallowed hard and Harry could tell that, despite now having the key to the room, he was unlikely to make the first move. He gave him several minutes to mentally prepare himself and was about to take initiative when Draco surprised him with an unexpected request.

He merely whispered the words but to Harry, it sounded like he’d said them loud and clear.

“Take me, _Sir_?”

Harry smiled and nodded. He wordlessly slid off the bed and standing up, he took Draco’s empty hand into his own and tugged gently.

“Follow me, my little prince.”

Draco moved off the bed and as he did so, he curled his fingers tightly around Harry’s hand, making it evident that he needed the support. Harry led him out of the bedroom, down the corridor and up the stairs to the fourth floor.

At the landing, they turned left and Harry stopped in front of an inconspicuously-looking black wooden door. He pulled Draco into his arms, cupped his face with one hand and kissed him tenderly.

“Before you unlock the door and go inside, I want you to remember one thing, one extremely important thing. You are under absolutely _no_ obligation to do anything inside that room. You may also touch whatever you like, open any cabinet or chest of drawers that piques your curiosity. You may ask me anything and if at any point you think being inside the room is too much, I want you to tell me and we’ll leave immediately. Can you do that for me?”

Draco nodded and although Harry wanted to make him say the words, he decided to let it slide. They weren’t about to have a scene and Draco’s non-verbal confirmation was good enough for him. So, instead of pressing Draco for more, he motioned at the door and silently watched Draco unsuccessfully fumble with the key.

His hand trembled slightly and steadying it with his own, Harry helped him to unlock the door and turn the doorknob. Draco pushed the door open and as he did, Harry mumbled the incantation to the spell that turned on the lights inside the room. Draco took a hesitant step inside the room and upon hearing his first comment, Harry had to suppress a chuckle.

“Of course, it’s red, bloody Gryffindor, should’ve expected that.”

Harry remained at the door and pushing his hands into his jean pockets, he casually leant against the wooden doorframe and watched as Draco tentatively stepped further into the room.

He walked steadily past the black wooden St Andrew’s Cross with its red leather padding and the cosy-looking cushioned armchair that stood nearby, then stopped in front of the leather sex swing and frowned at it. He reached out as if to touch the leather straps but withdrew his hand at the last moment and pushed it into his jean pocket instead.

Draco wordlessly walked past the bondage bench, the wooden spanking bench, and a wooden classic shape BDSM horse with high-class black leather padding.

Harry’s favourite grey leather sex chair quite obviously drew Draco in for just a moment and Harry wondered whether it was the colour that had made Draco stop or whether he liked the shape of it. It was the only piece of furniture that wasn’t either black or lava red.

Harry’s newly-acquired Scorpion Chair properly sparked Draco’s curiosity even further and after walking up to it, he stood in front of it and admired it for several long minutes. Harry couldn’t help but think that Draco might enjoy a session in it. It was leather-padded, extremely comfortable and equipped with special stands to restrain a sub’s legs while keeping them spread far apart for easy access and at the same time ensuring a certain sense of vulnerability. The chair also had plenty of metal hooks in all the right places to attach restraints or ropes to.

After appreciating the Scorpion Chair, the padded wall was the first piece of furniture Draco touched. He tentatively splayed his fingers out over the leather, then caressed it with some uncertainty.

Drawn to one of the hooks that lined the wooden frame, Draco crooked his finger around it, lingered for a moment, then resolutely let go. His gaze trailed upward and he discovered the hoist, spreader bar and cuffs that allowed for suspension.

A visible shudder went through him and he stepped back as though he wanted to bring a healthy amount of distance between him and the suspension device. He slowly crossed the room and headed over to the four-poster BDSM bondage bed instead. There, he trailed the length of the expensive red satin sheets and Harry caught the half-smile that appeared on his face.

 _You like that, don’t you, my little prince_ , he thought and promptly found himself having to fight the strong urge to walk into the room, push Draco onto the bed, vanish his clothes and restrain his arms to the specially designed headboard.

Draco lingered by the bed for several minutes and alternated between running his fingers over the exquisite black wood, which was firm to the touch, and the soft satin sheets.

While he did that, Harry pictured him naked, bound to one of the four posters and fantasied about forcing Draco into a slightly awkward position, then making him watch in the mirror as Harry fucked him hard and mercilessly.

He bit his lip to stifle a moan, then shuffled into a more comfortable position.

Simply watching as Draco walked about his playroom, his sanctuary, was a massive turn on and it took Harry every ounce of self-restraint not to pounce on Draco, who had wandered off and now stood in front of a wall lined with an extensive selection of whips, crops, floggers, paddles, and various other impact toys.

Harry had more toys than those that were on display but he kept them stored away inside the large black wooden cabinet underneath the display.

He watched carefully as Draco reached for a pretty standard riding crop and gripped the handle tightly. He let his fingers slide down the flexible shaft, then swished it through the air and jumped a little when the tress at the end unexpectedly connected with the wooden cabinet and the sound echoed through the room.

 _Not bad for a first attempt at wielding a crop, sweet one_ , Harry mused with a smirk.

He pushed off the doorframe and slowly stepped into the room but instead of approaching Draco directly, he headed over to the red leather sofa and sitting down he kept his arms and legs uncrossed in a welcoming and not at all dominating pose.

If Draco had noticed him entering the room, he paid him no heed.

For a moment, Harry thought Draco might start pulling out drawers and opening cabinets to check their contents but he did no such thing.

Instead, he returned the leather crop to its rightful hook and took in the entire room.

Then, he slowly approached Harry and stopped in front of him.

He seemed unsure of what to do now and clasping and unclasping his hands as he looked at the floor.

“Look at me, my love,” Harry said softly.

After a moment of nervous hesitation, Draco complied with his request and slowly lifted his head.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

When Draco gave him a tentative nod, he smiled.

So far so good. Draco hadn’t run for the hills; he hadn’t panicked and he was showing a definite interest in the room’s furniture and some of the toys. Harry was most certainly proud of him but he was also aware that all the new impressions were likely rather overwhelming for Draco.

“Apart from the colour it’s not so bad,” Draco said before Harry had the chance to praise him for his courage to explore his playroom.

Harry chuckled.

“It’s not red because I was sorted into Gryffindor, you know? Come, sit down next to me, I’ll show you something.”

He invited Draco to join him on the leather sofa and when he did, Harry pulled him into his arms and hugged him close.

“Watch this,” he whispered into Draco’s ear.

He mumbled an incantation and wandlessly cast a spell. The lights in the room slowly dimmed and a soft golden glow spread around the room. The dark wood and black leather absorbed most of the light but the red leather and the red satin sheets reflected it beautifully, creating an ambience that was both calming and intensely erotic.

Harry snapped his fingers and the key to the door, which was still stuck inside the keyhole, flew into his hand. At the same time, the door closed with a gentle click and the lock turned.

Draco shuddered in his arms and tightening his hold on him, Harry took his hand, placed the key in his palm and curled his fingers around it, much like he’d done earlier in his bedroom.

“This is your safeword. The moment you let it go the door will open and the lights will come on again,” he murmured and pressed a gentle, reassuring kiss against Draco’s neck.

“Do you— Are you— Do you want to— p—play?”

Draco stammered his way through the question.

Harry felt another tremor surge through him. He’d heard the trepidation in his voice.

“My little prince, I feel that this room scares you a bit. I don’t want you to be scared, so, Draco, tell me do you trust me?” Harry asked softly.

Mentally he prepared himself for everything, even Draco letting go of the key to show him that he wanted to leave the room.

Instead, Draco nodded.

“Tell me, use your words, my love,” Harry urged.

He moved one of his legs onto the sofa. The change in position meant that Draco could comfortably sit between his spread legs and lean back against his chest.

Draco sucked in a shaky breath.

“Y—yes, I trust you, Harry.”

“Hm, good, then close your eyes.”

Harry instructed and as he did so, he placed his hand over Draco’s eyes, deliberately taking his eyesight away. He felt Draco’s eyelashes flutter against the palm of his hand and felt him tense.

“Relax, my love, nothing you don’t want to happen is going to happen, you know that. Hold on to that thought, you absolutely are in control of the situation,” he assured.

Draco relaxed a little in his arms and Harry cast a wandless, wordless spell.

Hauntingly beautiful music — a violin accompanied by the gentle sounds of a piano and a harp — began to fill the room and Harry ever so softly caressed Draco’s cheek with his thumb.

“Listen to the music, my little prince, let it carry you away. Listen to my voice, focus on it, do as I say.”

Harry paused for a moment to avoid overwhelming Draco, then continued with his instructions.

“Rest your hands on my thighs and leave them there, don’t let go of the key, unless you want me to stop. If you want me to stop, just let go of the key, remember, you are in control, you decide how much you want to let happen.”

Harry spoke softly, pressing a few sweet kisses first to Draco’s neck and then to his cheek.

Draco sighed contently and Harry felt him move his hands and slowly place them on top of his thighs. He splayed one hand out over Harry’s thigh but kept the fingers of his other hand firmly clasped around the key to the room.

Making sure that Draco hadn’t opened his eyes again, Harry trailed his fingers teasingly up Draco’s biceps and massaged his shoulders.

Another sigh escaped Draco’s slightly parted lips and Harry kissed him again, then rested both his hands right above Draco’s heart.

“I want you to feel, just feel. Feel the warmth of my body radiating from my thighs and into the palms of your hands, your fingers. Feel the warmth of my body against your back, keeping you warm, keeping you safe, _always_ ,” Harry whispered. “Can you feel that my precious little prince?”

Draco nodded, then made a sound that was neither a hummed approval nor a soft moan. It was beautiful all the same.

“Feel my hands on your heart, can you feel how it beats? Focus on it. So steady, it never stops, _lub-dub_ , _lub-dub_ , _lub-dub_ …”

A low whine escaped Draco’s lips and Harry kissed him again.

He fell silent for a moment and allowed Draco to lose himself in the picture he had painted in his head and the instructions he had given him.

“It’s not always about sex, my love, that’s only a small part of it. It’s about you trusting me enough to be vulnerable in front of me and allowing me to take care of you. It’s about you knowing that I’ll only ever hurt you in the best possible way and never ever in anger. It’s about me keeping you safe, always, and about making you feel loved. It’s about making you feel good, so, so good. I get as much pleasure from you allowing me to choose your clothes for the day as hearing you beg me for your release. It’s about control and submission. It’s about you giving yourself to me and knowing that I’ll never ever abuse the trust you put in me.”

Draco whined softly and shuffled in his arms, though not because he wanted to get away but because he wanted to get closer.

Harry felt the fingers of Draco’s hand dig into his thigh and smiled into Draco’s neck as he watched his right hand, albeit still resting on his thigh, tighten around the key, desperate not to let go. He peppered Draco’s neck with tiny kisses, teased his earlobe with the tip of his tongue and French-kissed that sensitive spot just behind Draco’s ear.

His actions drew several moans from the depths of Draco’s chest and a long whine followed shortly after he stopped his gentle and teasing assault Draco’s neck.

“What do you want, my little prince?” Harry asked.

Draco trembled in his arms.

“You, _Sir_ , please, I want you,” he breathed.

Harry resumed kissing his neck.

“I want you to know something, Draco. I want you to know that you’re incredibly hot when you stand your ground and fight for what you believe is right. And I also want you to know that you’re breathtakingly beautiful when you submit and willingly surrender yourself to me.”

Harry quite deliberately twisted Draco’s mind some more.

“ _Harry_ —” Draco pleaded.

“Yes, my little prince, tell me what you want, anything at all, I’ll give you anything you want, you just have to tell me.”

“Touch me.”

“I am touching you.”

“More, please,” Draco begged, sounding half delirious with want and need.

With a smile, Harry began to slowly unbutton Draco’s shirt. He pushed it aside and ran his bare hands over Draco’s torso, caressing every inch of skin, he’d just exposed.

He alternated between using his whole palm and just his fingertips and Draco moaned and arched into the touch.

An incessant stream of pleas left his lips but since he wasn’t asking for anything concrete, Harry kept teasing Draco’s chest and stomach with his fingers, delighting in the way Draco’s muscles quivered beneath his gentle touch. He bit Draco’s neck, caressed the mark, and suckled on the abused flesh.

“What do you want?” he asked again.

This time he was a little bit more insistent.

Draco mewled.

Harry caressed his face, caressed his lips with his fingers and kissed his cheek.

“What you want, my love?” he asked a third time.

“The bed— ta—take me t—to the bed,” Draco stammered.

Harry smiled.

“Then what, sweet one?”

“ _Ngh_ , _please_ , Harry, _please_.”

“Please what, my little prince, you have to tell me. If you don’t, I don’t know what you want and I can’t give it to you.”

“The bed,” Draco pleaded again.

“Yes, my love, I know you want the bed, what do you want to do there? Tell me, my little prince, and you can have it. I won’t ever deny you anything you want; I can promise you that.”

“I want— I want— Harry, I— Harry— make love to me— on the bed— tie me up— make love to me, _please_.”

Draco finally forced the words out and Harry peppered his neck with a ton of tiny kisses.

He gently extracted himself from behind Draco and getting to his feet, he picked him up as though he weighed nothing more than a feather. He carried Draco over to the bed, eased him onto the satin sheets and leaning down over him, he gave him a deep kiss.

“Keep those eyes closed, and don’t let go of that key unless you want to stop this. Remember, the key is your safeword, if you want to stop, just let go,” he whispered, knowing that he needed to remind Draco more often. He was too new to this and too likely to descend too far past the haze in his mind to remember on his own.

Harry placed a gentle kiss on Draco’s nose.

He held his hand out and wandlessly summoned a black satin blindfold which he expertly fastened it around Draco’s eyes.

Draco trembled and writhed slowly on the bed.

Harry withdrew a little and allowed himself a moment to appreciate the sight of Draco, lying on the bed with his shirt open, his knees slightly bend and the soles of his bare feet insistently rubbing against the soft satin of the sheets. He smiled and relieved Draco of his shirt, jeans, and boxer briefs, leaving him gloriously naked safe for the blindfold.

Banishing all of Draco’s clothes to the leather sofa, Harry continued to stand beside the bed. He watched Draco writhe some more and knew that the reason he kept doing so was because the sensation of cool satin against his heated skin was thoroughly thrilling.

Harry gently snapped his fingers and summoned a set of black bondage ropes from the cabinet across the room. He bound Draco’s wrists together, gently eased his arms above his head and tied the ends of the rope to the headboard.

“Spread your legs and bend your knees a little more for me, my gorgeous little prince,” Harry whispered.

He unbuttoned his jeans and let them slide to the floor, then summoned a bottle of expensive lube with magical sensation-heightening properties.

Bottle in hand, he crawled onto the bed and sitting between Draco’s legs, he braced himself on one arm and pressed a kiss to Draco’s parted lips.

“You will not come until I tell you to, do you understand?”

Draco inhaled sharply, shuddered, and nodded.

“Yes—”

“Yes, _who_?” Harry pushed, wanting to see if Draco remembered.

“Yes Sir, I understand, I won’t come without your permission.”

Draco panted, forced the words past his lips and writhing against the bedsheets, he tugged on his bound wrists.

Harry smiled.

“Good boy,” he praised, watching the effect his words had on Draco as they washed over him.

He sat back on his haunches and began to prepare Draco. He was generous with the lube but took his sweet time preparing him — the preparation wasn’t about stretching him to accommodate his cock but about drawing out the inevitable.

Harry slowly worked his fingers into Draco and teased him to the brink of a toe-curling orgasm but denied him his release. He gave him a moment to come down from his almost-high, then sucked Draco’s cock into his mouth and brought him right to the edge again but didn’t allow him to climax.

Then, after teasing and denying him twice, he pushed his cock into Draco’s tight channel and by the time, he had denied Draco his third orgasm, Draco was a trembling pleading mess.

“Please, _Sir_ , please let me come, please, please, please.”

A wretched sob tore from the depth of Draco’s chest along with his desperate plea for his release.

He continued to beg and plead and he sounded and looked so beautiful that Harry’s heart skipped a few beats. He couldn’t help but take immense pleasure in the fact that Draco’s cheeks were wet with salty tears and that his body was covered in a fine sheen of sweat. Harry knew that Draco wasn’t crying because he was upset and hurt but rather because Harry was, quite deliberately so, keeping him right on the edge of unattainable release and the myriad of emotions that flowed through him was too much to take yet at the same time not nearly enough.

That was what submission did to the body and mind of a person who willingly surrendered himself and seeing that very reaction in Draco was a sight, Harry knew, he would never tire of seeing.

He leant forward and captured Draco’s lips in an intense kiss and when he pulled away, he mumbled a single word against Draco’s lips.

“No.”

Draco groaned and writhed against the sheets. He tugged on his restraints and clenched his fingers tightly around the key to the room — Harry had no doubt that letting go of it was the last thing on Draco’s mind. Not because he was too far gone to make a rational decision but because he’d lost himself in the throes of his pleasure and wanted more, more, more.

“Please, please, please,” Draco begged.

He sounded half delirious with desperation and Harry thrust into him, purposefully brushing against his prostate on his inward stroke. The sly move turned Draco’s last plea into a long and drawn-out moan.

With a bit of practised finesse, Harry adjusted his angle to brush Draco’s prostate on every thrust. He reached between them both, wrapped a well-lubricated hand around Draco’s throbbing deep-red cock and stroked it slowly and in time with his thrusts. He captured Draco’s lips in yet another fervent kiss and only pulled away when he felt that Draco was about to climax.

“Come for me, my sweet prince,” he whispered, quite unexpectedly, demanding the release he’d previously repeatedly denied Draco.

He stilled his strokes, stilled his thrusts and his words were all it took for Draco to lose it. He arched his back, spasmed tightly around Harry’s cock, trapping him deep inside his tight channel, and spurted rope after rope of hot come all over himself, Harry’s hand, and his stomach.

The sounds he was making were enough to push Harry over the edge too and he emptied himself deep inside Draco, filling him with his seed.

Miraculously, Draco never let go of the key to the room. He held on to it as he sobbed through the intensity of his orgasm and waving his hand Harry vanished Draco’s restraints. He gently eased his softening cock out of Draco, freed him from the blindfold, slumped down beside him, and pulled him into his arms.

“I’ve got you, my precious love, let it all out, let it go,” he whispered soothingly.

He rubbed Draco’s back and allowed him to press his tear-stained face in his chest as he tried to recover from the sheer force of his orgasm but struggled to do so.

Harry gently pried the key from Draco’s fist but had to reassure him several times that it was okay to let go before Draco voluntarily surrendered it.

“You did so well, my love, so, so well, I’m incredibly proud of you,” Harry praised.

He summoned a bottle of cool water and he helped Draco take a few sips, needing him to hydrate a little, then summoned a box of chocolates and offered one to Draco, who accepted the sweet treat gladly.

“Sleep, my sweet little prince, if you want to, I’ll be here, I won’t leave your side, I promise,” Harry murmured.

He cast a cleaning charm over Draco, the bed and himself to make them more comfortable and continued to hold Draco. He combed his fingers gently through Draco’s damp hair and rubbed his back until he felt him slowly drift off in his arms. It was only when he was sure that Draco was fast asleep, that he allowed his own eyes to close and tiredness to catch up with him.

Draco’s wellbeing came first, always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I hope you enjoyed that.
> 
> Just a short end note to let you know that I’ll be posting the next chapter on **Wednesday**. I’m feeling a bit under the weather, have an exam paper to write for my students and need to catch up on sleep and correspondence. It’s already uploaded, so ready and waiting for you.
> 
> Yes, I know, it means I could post it tomorrow because it’ll just take me one click to share it but you’ll still only get it Wednesday, *channels Dom!Harry*, be good and behave or else the riding crop is going to come out to play.


	31. Give Me More

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)
> 
> Well, you have been patient ( _also, thank you very much for your well wishes — I am on the mend_ ) and so you deserve another chapter, which I really hope you will enjoy.
> 
> I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again. Communication is a huge thing in BDSM and it’s extremely important, hence you will find that I’ve made every effort to provide opportunities for Harry and Draco to talk things through. Sometimes they will just talk, sometimes things happen afterwards, sometimes things happen and then they talk — it’s all very much consensual. This is the only way I will do it; the real way.
> 
> You can expect the next chapter on **Friday**. In the meantime I accept coffee smileys if you want to keep me happy and sane. *grin*
> 
> Also, as always, if you have any questions or anything you’d like more information on ( _regardless on whether it’s covered in the story or not_ ) let me know and I’ll try and give you something...
> 
> Now, without further ado ( _and rambling from me_ ) enjoy the next chapter and I’m looking forward to your wonderfully entertaining notes. Kisses to all *bows out*

* * *

By the time Draco entered the room sometime late the next morning, Harry had been sitting at the kitchen table, enjoying his breakfast, for quite some time. He hadn't slept as long as Draco but after waking up he hadn't quite managed to tear his eyes away from Draco's sleeping form and had spent a solid hour watching him dream — the only reason he'd eventually given in and forced himself out of bed had been because his grumbling stomach had started to loudly complain about a distinct lack of food.

“My, aren’t you looking dapper this morning, Mr Malfoy?” Harry said with a broad smile.

When Draco approached the table, Harry handed him a cappuccino. He’d made it earlier with the intention to bring it upstairs so that Draco could enjoy it in bed, but hadn't been able to convince himself to rouse Draco from his sleep. He'd looked so peaceful, quite angelic even, and Harry wanted him to have all the rest in the world.

Instead, he'd returned to the kitchen and kept the coffee warm and in the perfect drinkable condition with the help of a Stasis Charm.

“I’ve got you to blame for that, I think.” Draco said with a chuckle.

His eyes twinkled with mirth and for a moment Harry couldn't decide whether he liked them better open or closed. In the end, he settled on not being able to make a decision and gave Draco a casual once-over.

He looked well-rested and right as rain and as he took a sip of his cappuccino, he took a seat across from Harry.

“Incidentally, mind telling me how I got back into your bedroom last night? I’m a bit foggy on anything that happened after we— I mean I think I remember but—” Draco paused.

He flushed and reaching for a warm chocolate croissant, he took a large bite and chewed slowly.

“After you explored my playroom, allowed me to lead you astray and then begged me to tie you to the bed and make love to you?”

Harry offered without any qualms and an entirely straight face, then smiled at Draco's coy reaction to his words. Most of the time, Draco was anything but coy yet pretending to be shy seemingly came quite naturally to him. Harry rather enjoyed that coquettish bashfulness. It was both flirtatious and sweet but also extremely alluring — some of it was, of course, not pretense but raw emotions and a direct response to the way Harry spoke and looked at him.

Draco, his head clearly full of images from last night, flushed an even deeper shade of crimson and promptly averted his eyes.

Harry reached across the table and placed his hand on top of Draco’s forearm to give it a gentle reassuring squeeze. He lingered and rubbed his fingertips gently over Draco's pale skin. It was soft and warm to the touch and in response, Draco flexed his fingers.

“Hey, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about, you wanted what you wanted and you enjoyed yourself thoroughly,” Harry said.

“But to answer your question, I carried you back after I let you rest for a bit and after I did the same. You were quite out of it and fell asleep in my arms almost immediately. I’d say you played to your heart’s content, my little prince, and in my humble opinion there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.”

“It was—”

Draco paused and looking right at Harry he frowned, opened his mouth as if to say something, but shook his head and took another bite of his chocolate croissant instead. He licked his lips, chewed extensively, then exhaled audibly. It was fairly obvious to Harry that Draco was clearly struggling to find the right words but Harry was in no rush. He was quite happy for Draco to take all the time in the world. Whatever Draco needed, this was his discovery, his journey and Harry wasn't going to cut it short for him. Draco didn't need to have everything fed to him, some things he needed to work out on his own and some questions needed to be asked by him before Harry answered them, even if he could tell what the question was or might be.

“Last night. How did you do that; how did you twist my mind like that?”

Harry smiled.

“I didn’t twist your mind, I just helped you relax. I figured you’d find seeing my playroom for the first time a bit overwhelming and I was right. It was a bit too much on top of an already tiring evening, you went pretty deep pretty fast. I would have preferred you to be less tired and more alert on your first visit but maybe it was for the best, maybe it was what you needed.”

“You had your wicked way with me!”

Draco sounded a little accusing, but there was no malice in his voice. In fact, he had a rather fond expression on his face, one that said he had absolutely no regrets about what had happened. He was clearly trying to suppress his amusement but wasn't doing a very good job of it — or maybe he didn't want to do a good job, maybe he wanted Harry to know that he'd enjoyed himself. Then again, Harry already knew that much. Still, it never hurt to hear, or in Draco's case, see, the truth and on occasion even Harry enjoyed having his ego stroked a bit.

“You asked me to, my love, remember?”

Harry winked and chuckled when Draco sighed exasperatedly, seemingly finding it a little hard to believe that he had slipped so far into submission as to outright ask for Harry to make love him inside his playroom.

“I remember,” Draco said quietly. “It was— It felt—”

“Intense?”

Harry offered helpfully — and because he had few more years of experience than Draco and knew how to adequately express himself when it came to describing the emotions connected with both submission and dominance.

Draco nodded.

“I mean, it’s been intense before and I thought I was used to that but this was different. This was like you stripped every single one of my inhibitions away. Asking you to tie me to the bed, it didn’t feel embarrassing anymore. It just felt— It was—”

“Right?”

Harry easily finished Draco’s sentence and smiled softly.

Draco nodded.

Harry squeezed his forearm gently, reassuringly, then withdrew his hand and reached for a slice of crunchy toast. He buttered it and took a large bite. As he chewed, he watched Draco carefully and felt a bit in awe of how far they had come in such a short space of time.

Several months ago, when they had first started dating, he would have never dared to hope that Draco might be interested in the lifestyle, interested in surrendering control, interested in having sex inside a fully-furnished BDSM playroom. Draco most definitely had a few kinky penchants and Harry wanted to help him discover every single one of them in-depth.

Harry couldn’t help but feel drawn to trying to push Draco’s boundaries, drawn to helping him to explore his inner submissive. He so clearly enjoyed submitting, enjoyed it when Harry took control, completely relished in it even. Draco, that much Harry had already discovered, needed submission in doses. He very much needed moments when he was in control and when he could be his own person and speak his mind without the fear that it would result in being disciplined but he also needed moments when he was allowed to surrender completely and let himself fall and trust that Harry was there to catch him when he fell.

Last night had proven that quite clearly and Harry sincerely hoped that Draco would give him many more chances to show him exactly how beautiful and liberating submission was for someone who truly enjoyed it.

In Harry's opinion, there really wasn't a stronger connection between two people. The link between a Dom and his sub could be, and in most cases was, intense. The level of trust involved, the commitment from either party, the vulnerability of one person and the power of the other. All that formed a deeper and stronger bond than love alone ever could — and that was saying something because love was a pretty powerful emotion on its own.

He wanted to help Draco unearth the kinks he hadn’t yet discovered and wanted to show him the true extent of surrendering control, of letting someone else take care of you so completely that you could just trust and let yourself fall yet be sure to never ever hit the ground.

Harry wanted to teach Draco what it was like to be with someone who knew you better than you knew yourself, someone who knew what you needed when you needed it but who also understood the importance of safety, of rules, of boundaries, of needs, of consent, of communication…of everything really.

“Harry?”

Draco interrupted his train of thoughts and snapping out of his little daydream, Harry smiled and took another bite of his toast.

“Hm?”

“You looked miles away. What were you thinking about?”

“You,” Harry said with a grin.

It wasn’t even a lie. He had been thinking about Draco. He thought about him most of the time.

“I was thinking about how brave you were last night and how beautiful you looked. And I was thinking about the truly wonderful gift you gave me when you gave it all up for me.”

“I hardly did anything brave.”

Draco protested but his mild flush told Harry that he had thrown him with his compliment.

Praise worked wonders on Draco — it really hadn’t taken Harry long to deduce that one. His reactions were those of a submissive with an extensive praise kink and Harry really hoped that he’d one day get the chance to show Draco just how beautiful it was when simple words of praise, spoken from the heart and with true meaning, pushed you right into subspace.

Harry didn’t consider achieving subspace a necessity for a scene to be mutually fulfilling and not getting there didn’t mean that a submissive had failed to adequately please the dominant partner. Things that were important were the level of interaction, the emotional connection, safety, and mutual consent.

Still, from what Harry had seen and experienced so far, Draco was highly-susceptible to that trance-like altered state of mind that brought forth a myriad of intense emotions and feelings. He knew that helping Draco to achieve that condition meant that he was extremely emotionally and psychologically vulnerable and would require careful monitoring and loving aftercare but Harry was prepared to give him all that and more to help ease him back to a more rational state of mind afterwards.

Harry smiled.

He abandoned his plans of any future scenes and grabbed the chance to teach Draco something new by the horns.

“I beg to differ, Draco. It takes real guts to walk into a playroom when all this is still so very new to you and it takes even more guts to trust someone enough to surrender control. Last night, you proved to me that you have both, the guts to experience something you’ve never experienced before and the guts to trust me enough to willingly surrender to me. I couldn't think of a more accurate definition of the word brave.”

Draco regarded him carefully for a moment and not breaking their eye contact, Harry sipped his coffee and finished his buttered toast.

He knew Draco needed time to consider what he had just said. He didn’t need to hear Draco say the actual words to know that he trusted him but he needed Draco to understand that what had happened between them inside his playroom had been based on trust, full and explicit trust.

Given their history and everything that had transpired between them, it was strange but it was also undeniable. In the end, intense attraction and love had won out and their tumultuous past had well and truly faded into the, well, past. It was of no importance to their future, or at least Harry hoped it wasn’t. He wasn’t stupid or arrogant enough to think that their past would never catch up with them but he felt confident that they’d manage to navigate those waters together.

“What did it feel like for you?”

Draco suddenly asked and while the question was a little unexpected, it wasn’t enough to throw Harry off his game. It took much more than that.

“Last night?” he asked, stalling for a little time to sort his thoughts, not because he didn’t know how he felt about Draco submitting to him but because he was a little hesitant about how to answer the question.

Draco gave a small nod.

“In plain old English, it felt incredible, for me dominating always does.”

Harry drank more coffee and paused for another moment.

“Let me answer in the present tense because the feeling doesn’t change, but first, I want you to know that this is how it feels like for me to be with you and you alone. It’s not some generic answer. To have you surrender to me without questions asked and trust me enough to ask me for what you need and trust me to be able to give you what you want, even if you’re still learning about it all yourself, well, it gives me an unbelievable rush of power. In comparison to that, absolutely everything pales, except you. I find that I notice everything about you, every little breath you take, every gasp, every quiver, every tiny reaction to anything I do to you. The way you submit pleases me, excites me, arouses me. It stimulates all my senses. When you respond to me, when you—”

Harry took a moment to watch the effect his words were having on Draco, mildly worried that he was pushing him too far too soon.

Draco had wrapped both hands around his coffee cup and was holding it tightly. His eyes had darkened a little and had glazed over too. He had parted his lips ever so slightly and was gently worrying his bottom lip. The faint flush that graced the top of his cheeks and the way he wouldn’t look at anything but Harry was the perfect tell-tale. He was thoroughly excited, hooked, spell-bound even — and all that because of a few things Harry had said to him.

The way Draco reacted to his words told Harry all he needed to know. He wanted Harry to make him feel like that and he wanted to give Harry the divine gift of submission. It was entirely his choice and the fact that he was choosing Harry, was almost enough to make Harry fall in love with Draco all over again.

There was just one question, was Draco ready to admit to himself that submission was something he craved, something he wanted, and more importantly, was he also ready to admit that to Harry?

Harry had no intention of pushing Draco into answering that question. In fact, he had no intention of even asking the question. It wasn’t necessary. He was convinced that Draco would admit his desires freely when he was ready to do so. Again, it was absolutely his choice.

 _I want to own you, I want you to be mine and only mine,_ Harry thought and placed his hands above Draco’s. It was then that Draco broke their eye-contact, stared down at their hands, and swallowed hard.

“Harry—” he whispered.

“What do you want?”

Harry allowed his dominant side to respond.

“I want more,” Draco said hesitantly. "So much more."

Harry stroked his thumbs over the back of Draco’s hands, innocently teasing and caressing the soft, pale skin he loved so much.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to be a bit more specific than that, Draco.”

Harry tried a slightly firmer approach and spoke resolutely and with conviction but when Draco lifted his head to look at him, he smiled softly, warmly, and full of encouragement. It was important to him that Draco knew that could be both, firm but also gentle, demanding but also lenient.

“Just— will you show me everything that’s in your playroom?”

Harry smiled.

“Show you or use it?” he asked.

A mild bout of panic flicker across Draco’s face as he inhaled sharply.

“I— some of the stuff inside the room— It looks— it looks pretty scary,” Draco said.

The fact that he was openly admitting that he was scared, and Harry fully expected him to be, was a definite sign of trust.

 _You haven’t seen anything yet, my love_ , Harry thought but smiled, then took the opportunity to remind Draco that his consent was everything.

“And you also know that I would never use any of it on you without your explicit consent.”

Draco gradually relaxed and smiled shyly.

In response, Harry growled inwardly.

 _Mine, mine, mine,_ he thought possessively. _By Circe, why do you have to be so damn perfect?_

There was absolutely nothing timid about Draco, he wasn’t naturally coy but the fear of the unknown changed him that little bit. It usually only lasted for a short period of time but it was beautiful to watch.

Harry wanted to pounce of Draco, he wanted it quite badly.

He wanted to collar him.

He wanted to mark him, own him, make him his.

Repeatedly.

After last night, the urge was even stronger than before, it was an almost primal need he did not know how to control, except somehow he found the strength to do exactly that. For Draco's sake; for both of them.

Right in that very moment, it took Harry a great deal of effort to stop himself from summoning a collar from upstairs. He had a selection of them, all of them for the purpose of casual play, not for the purpose of claiming a sub but there was one special collar Harry couldn't stop thinking about. It was quite simple, yet completely stylish.

He wanted Draco to wear it, wanted it very badly but he had enough common sense to know that now was not the time to present Draco with a collar. They were not there yet and they wouldn't be for quite some time.

He wanted to see the soft pliable grey leather snuggly sitting around Draco’s neck, wanted to hook his finger into the small D-ring at the front and wanted to tug on it to pull Draco into a fierce kiss, then tell Draco that he was his, that he belonged to Harry and that for as long as Draco was happy to be his he would not let him go.

But he did none of that.

He remained calm and cool, and taking Draco's right hand into his own, he lifted it, and leant forward to place a sweet kiss just below his knuckles.

Draco giggled and Harry thought that it was quite possibly the most beautiful sound he’d never heard Draco make — if he disregarded Draco’s pleas and moans from last night.

“I’m not a lady you need to fawn over,” he said.

Harry caught his gaze and held it.

“No, Draco, you’re not. You are so much more, you are perfection.”

“Now, now, Potter. You’re laying it on a bit thick, don’t you think?”

Draco mocked him deliberately.

Harry chuckled in response.

“Remember one thing, Malfoy, I know how to make you fall apart at the seams and I don’t need magic to make it happen,” he whispered and reaching for another chocolate croissant, he handed it to Draco.

“Eat,” he said pointedly and Draco’s hesitation lasted all but half a second.

He took the offered croissant and bit into it with fervent enthusiasm.

Harry kept his expression blank but inside his head, he smiled in victory.

 _And that, my sweet little prince, was submission at its finest_ , he mused, _oh, you do please me so_.


	32. Take Me Munching

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)
> 
> Why am I so focused on the communication aspect, you ask (or perhaps you don't), well, simply put (and to borrow the words of _LT Morrison_ who wrote the "Devil in the Details"-Trilogy) because it is one of the four founding pillars of BDSM. While his books focus primarily on TPE (Total Power Exchange) for which you will find an explanation ["here"](http://www.bdsmwiki.info/TPE) and the Master/slave type of relationship in general -- it doesn't make it any less true and I would even go as far as say that these four pillars can be applied to most relationships.
> 
> In order to successfully sustain any relationship you need **intimacy** , **affection** , **communication/honesty** , and **sex**. I've tried my very best to continuously include these four pillars in the story -- I think that over the course of writing this story it's even become some sort of compulsion of mine to try and get this right. I am, however, only human. I make mistakes. I cross boundaries and I don't always make the right decisions but I do try.
> 
> BDSM is beautiful. It's true, it's honest, it's intense, and the level of trust and love involved (and necessary) to create something so amazing is truly mind-blowing. It's not just about sex and it's not just about pain. It isn't about power and control but about getting to know a person so completely that you know exactly what they need and when they need it. It isn't about submission or serving people but about trusting someone to do the right thing. I think most of what I just said in this paragraph, Harry already told Draco at some point and the only reason that I'm reiterating it is because it's just so important.
> 
> Anyway, I'm still coughing up a lung (or probably even both!) and my asthma is giving me some serious grief but despite that I've managed to get a lot of stuff for work prepared and so you will get at least one chapter over the weekend. 
> 
> Fear not, updates will continue be regular!
> 
> For those of you with keen attention to detail, you may have noticed that the chapter count has changed -- this is because I decided to rewrite the ending.
> 
> As always, if for whatever reason you feel the burning desire to leave more kudos (a comment that always makes me blush furiously) but AO3 tells you that you have already left kudos and may not do so again, I accept coffee smileys in lieu of that. *grin*
> 
> Alright, I'm seriously going to shut up now, enjoy the new chapter! It's nice and long.
> 
>  **K** , it's been a while since I've mentioned you in the A/Ns and while I know that I don't have to say this -- thank you! You've been a rock, a source of inspiration, a sounding board and a true friend. You've provided laughter and hugs and a kick in the arse when I needed it. You've turned a perfectly normal word into a magic cure for everything. You are the bestest big brother anyone could ever ask for and I while I can't imagine what the hell I did to deserve someone as wonderful as you, I'm just not going to question it but roll with it. I've just one tiny request, _please stay_ , forever if possible and convenient and if impossible and inconvenient, please do it anyway.
> 
> Right, one more thing, then I'm really going to shut up.  
> My little pet, my new wifey and my queen of all things philosophical, thank you for keeping me sane. You are such wondrous joys. You get me, which is astounding, and you make my days brighter!

* * *

Nearly a month later, which had been a bit of a strange, but wonderful, rollercoaster ride for them both, Harry found himself standing outside the Riding House Café, a modern and cosy restaurant, on Great Titchfield St in Fitzrovia with Draco at his side.

“Last chance to back out. Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?” he asked.

He took Draco’s hand, laced their fingers together, and placed his thumb on top of Draco’s in an intimate yet mildly possessive gesture.

He had discovered Draco quite liked little things like that.

Tiny, seemingly innocent ways of seamlessly inserting a bit of the D/s power dynamics into their everyday lives.

To the untrained eye none of these things were even remotely obvious but that was what it was all about. Harry knew what it meant and Draco knew what it meant and that was all that mattered. What others thought was of no concern to him and while he didn’t expect Draco to wear a t-shirt that stated _I’m-submissive-and-I-like-it-when-my-boyfriend-spanks-me-when-we-have-sex_ — the idea of that appealed greatly, perhaps not something for Draco to wear in public, but rather for those times when they were alone together — it was very important to Harry to know that Draco was comfortable in his own skin and with his choices, all of them.

He was a little bit worried that Draco was biting off more than he could chew but at the same time he was also immensely proud of the fact that Draco wanted to meet Caleb and other people who enjoyed the lifestyle.

Since the entire concept of BDSM was still so horribly new to Draco, and wanting to continue to ease him into it rather than forcing him to jump into the deep end of the pool, Harry had initially offered to invite only Caleb and Stefan to meet them for a Saturday morning brunch. His intention had been to give the four of them a chance to talk in private and for Draco to get to know one of his best and closest friends.

Draco being Draco, however, had obstinately insisted on attending a proper munch and not even the prospect of spending the morning surrounded by Muggles could change his mind. Harry had wanted to argue, had wanted to try to get his own way but he respected Draco too much to force him to surrender when that was not what he wanted.

For Harry, this wasn’t how it worked.

 _I want to meet other people like you and me_ , Draco had said and Harry had smiled at that because Draco had unconsciously referred to himself as someone who was into the lifestyle and really what were you supposed to say to that, especially when your boyfriend's preferred choice of weapon were words?

Or had it been a deliberate slip of the tongue?

With Draco, one could never be entirely certain what was a genuine slip of the tongue and what was deliberate; and that was exactly what made him so great at his job.

Whatever it had been, that very statement that had made Harry surrender and he had gotten in touch with Caleb to organise a munch. He had contacted a few of his friends from the club and personally invited them to come out for a bit of vanilla fun. Having known them for a few years, Harry trusted them enough not to completely terrify Draco.

Loath to allow Draco to attend his first munch blind and lacking fundamental knowledge of the most common terminology everyone Harry knew used, he’d spent the last month taking as much time as possible to teach Draco. It had been a crash course but it had been informative and eye-opening, for both of them.

Draco had willingly shifted his work schedule around as much as possible and had even handed one of his cases off to a fellow prosecutor, though not without promising to hex his balls to the moon if he lost the case. It had been yet another testament to how important this journey of discovery was to Draco and that he truly wanted to learn more.

 _Preferably everything_ , he'd said. Harry still remembered those words as though Draco had said them only yesterday. They'd made him smile and he'd kissed Draco soundly and for several long minutes.

Over the past month, they’d spent many evenings inside Harry’s playroom. They’d mostly talked about rules; which Draco now knew a fair bit about since he’d previously perused a few sample D/s contracts. They’d extensively talked about consent and Harry had repeatedly told Draco how important it was to him that absolutely everything they did was based on mutual consent.

In response to that, Draco, who at times took extreme pleasure in being completely childish, had called him a silly Gryffindork. Harry, intend on showing Draco his place, had given him his most menacing Slytherin glare, however, it had failed to have even the slightest effect on Draco. Instead of backing off, as Harry had playfully been trying to entice him to do, he’d decided to try his hand at showing off his bratty side.

He’d turned his sass on to the degree that Harry’s hand had itched terribly and after chasing Draco around the playroom, and eventually the house, he’d finally caught him in the living room and thrown him over his knee. Draco had, of course, struggled and tried to get away but Harry had kept a firm grip on him, showing him exactly who was in charge. He still remembered the question he’d asked which had led to Draco’s surrender — _Do I have your permission to spank that gorgeous arse of yours and turn it a delightful shade of red?_

Draco had twisted his head and looked up at him from under lowered lashes and held his gaze for a few long moments. When Harry has smiled, he'd flushed crimson and blinked several times, then a acquiesced, offering himself up for a playful punishment that left him in a giggly mood afterwards.

Apart from rules, they’d also extensively talked about safewords and after a bit of indecisiveness — mainly because he loathed the idea that red meant _stop_ and green meant _go_ — Draco had eventually settled for the traffic light system, though not without making it absolutely and unequivocally clear that he didn’t think a Gryffindor deserved to have that much power, not even when it came to BDSM.

That conversation had ended with Harry spending several hours showing Draco the merits of the colour red — _red, kiss-swollen lips, red bite marks, red hand imprints on Draco’s arse, Draco’s hard cock, a deep shade of red, after having been edged and denied his orgasm countless of times, red restraints that complimented Draco’s pale skin beautifully_.

By the end of that demonstration, Draco had conceded that the colour red wasn’t so bad at all though Harry very much suspected that he’d only done so because he’d been desperate to climax.

Of course, they’d also discussed boundaries and Harry had patiently introduced many different types of play to Draco; some had properly grossed Draco out but others had excited him and though he’d never actually said so, not with words anyway, the expression in his eyes had told Harry everything he needed to know.

While Draco continued to learn about BDSM, Harry had taken the opportunity to pay close attention to any and all of Draco’s reactions and had therefore nearly perfected his ability to read him like a book.

After all that, Harry had moved on to introduce Draco to a wide array of toys and other props. He’d shown him different types of restraints, vibrators, and dildos, as well as anal plugs and the cock rings. Draco had spent most of that conversation looking at him with a flushed face though not because he’d been embarrassed but because he’d been rather excited — the gleam in his silvery-grey eyes and his dilated pupils had given the true nature of his thoughts away.

Naturally, Draco’s arousal hadn’t left Harry unaffected and after several ardent kisses and a few bites to Draco’s neck, he’d suggested a demonstration.

A few moments of careful consideration later, Draco had agreed to be a willing participant and not soon after that he’d found himself restrained to the bed while Harry mercilessly teased him with a vibrating dildo and plenty of praise until he’d successfully reduced him to a shaking moaning mess, desperate for release and not ashamed to beg for it.

Their conversation about impact play toys had gone equally as well, far better even than Harry had expected it, considering that Draco wasn’t all that keen on pain and was very much still discovering the merits of it. He outright rejected the whip and cane, wanted absolutely nothing to do with it, but the paddle, flogger and especially the riding crop had thoroughly drawn him in and he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off those toys, especially the crop. He appeared both terrified and intensely turned on by it and after giving him a few days to process, Harry had, one Saturday afternoon invited him up to the playroom for a proper demonstration.

* * *

**Flashback Start**

* * *

_Harry sat down on the red leather chaise sofa and casually reclined into the soft cushions behind him. He curled the toes of his bare feet into the soft shaggy rug in front of the sofa, toyed with it for a moment, then pulled one leg up onto the seat cushion beneath him and casually folded it underneath his other leg._

_In a deliberate attempt to distract Draco, he’d put on his favourite pair of light-blue distressed jeans, the pair that always sat low on his hips. The countless tears revealed quite a bit of skin, giving a glimpse of tanned taut flesh. It had taken him all but five minutes to work out that Draco had a very soft spot for the raggedy look the jeans gave him._

_Harry toyed with the frays that ran along the edges of the ripped holes, then moved to adjust his black short-sleeved shirt. It was just tight enough to compliment his biceps and his taut rigid abdominal muscles but not tight enough to give him the outward appearance of someone on the wrong side of camp — because there was camp, which he liked, and then there was ludicrous and when it boiled down to it, Harry very much preferred the former over the latter, though it wasn’t really a look he managed to successfully pull off._

_Harry sat in silent contemplation for a few minutes, taking the opportunity to mentally prepare himself until Draco’s arrival. He idly tapped his fingers on the armrest, though not because he was nervous but rather because he enjoyed the feel of the chaise’s cool leather beneath his fingertips. It was both soft and firm and strangely enough it reminded him of Draco, who, much like the leather, had moments when he was pliant and thoroughly obedient and times when he was obstinate, extremely bratty and sassy enough to completely twist Harry’s mind as he battled his desire to dominate Draco until being sassy was the last thing on his mind and his lust to push Draco into giving him all the sass he had to give._

_A gentle knock pulled Harry out of his reverie and he smiled._

_A moment later, the wooden door to his playroom opened and Draco stood in the doorframe, dressed in a pair of black chinos and a light-grey button-up shirt. He wasn’t wearing any shoes but unlike Harry, he hadn’t taken his socks off._

_Draco looked the perfect mixture between coy and excited and Harry’s heart skipped a beat. Unable to resist the temptation to toy with Draco’s mind, he gave him a slow and very appreciative once-over. He delighted in the way Draco’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed and how he appeared to be engaged in a fervent battle of wills. He seemed to desire to keep his eyes locked on Harry’s but at the same time, he also exhibited signs of the need to give in and avert his eyes — perhaps to hide the fact that he was feeling self-conscious about Harry putting him on display, even though it was just the two of them and there was nobody else watching them._

_Prior to this afternoon, they’d had a long discussion about consent and boundaries — although Harry, while promising Draco not to push him past what he could take, had made it abundantly clear that he didn’t intend to give Draco a step-by-step guide of what was going to happen once he entered the playroom. They’d agreed that Draco was not to cross the threshold until Harry gave him permission to do so._

_Harry could tell that the knowledge that he had to wait and that he was most definitely not in charge of the situation was making Draco just a little fidgety. As a result, he alternated between shoving his hands into the pockets of his trousers and pulling them out again a short while later. Harry thoroughly enjoyed the flicker of nervousness in his eyes and the way he worried his bottom lip — it was power play at its finest and the perfect chance for Draco to get acclimatised to the fact that Harry expected him to give up control, be obedient, and mindful of what he said and did._

_While he had no intention of turning this afternoon into a proper scene, Harry did have every intention of giving Draco a brand-new experience, one he wouldn’t forget for quite some time._

_After several more minutes of making Draco squirm at the door, Harry finally put him out of his misery._

_“Come in, my little prince,” he said softly._

_He motioned for Draco to step into the room and the moment that he did, Harry snapped his fingers and the door fell closed behind him. When it locked, Draco flinched and momentarily looked back over his shoulder. Harry could tell that Draco was somewhat unsettled and the last he wanted was for Draco to have a panic attack before they’d even started to explore._

_“Draco, look at me,” Harry prompted._

_He kept his voice soft but at the same time, he also made sure to give it a slightly authoritative undertone. He needed Draco to know that he wasn’t asking politely but that he was giving him a direct order and expected obedience._

_He had no intention of corporally punishing Draco for any failure to comply with his commands, they weren’t quite there yet, but he had other ways to make his displeasure over any insubordination known to Draco._

_Thankfully, Draco didn’t seem at all inclined to ignore Harry’s request and he slowly turned his head and when their eyes met across the room, Draco marginally relaxed. Harry lifted his hand and showed him the golden key to the room._

_“Tell me, my little prince, if you want to stop, if you don’t want to continue anymore, what’s your safeword?”_

_“Red,” Draco replied without hesitation._

_Harry nodded and smiled._

_“Good. Very good,” he praised._

_He noted the slight shudder that surged through Draco and pounced on it._

_“You like being good for me, don’t you? You like being my good little prince, don’t you?”_

_Draco pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, flushed a little and nodded._

_“Hm, yes, I know you do, you’re just so eager to please me, aren’t you, my love? Come here, kneel for me, my little prince.”_

_Draco hesitated for a moment, then slowly crossed the room. He stood in front of Harry, dithered briefly, then quietly complied with Harry’s request and gracefully sank to his knees. He sat back on his haunches and rested his hands in his lap._

_Harry leant forward and pushed his fingers underneath Draco’s chin. He gently forced it up, then caressed Draco’s cheek with his thumb._

_“Sweet boy,” he whispered._

_Another shudder went through Draco, his eyes glazed over and he tilted his head to push into Harry’s gentle caress._

_Harry smiled._

_“Pretty. My pretty little prince.”_

_Draco parted his lips and he let out a small gasp of breath._

_Harry showed him the key, then ran it from Draco’s temple, down his cheek, along his jawline and the side of his neck. A low whimper escaped Draco and Harry leant forward to kiss him on the lips._

_“You’ve got your safeword, you won’t need this today. It’ll stay in my pocket until we’re finished or you use your safeword. Do you understand that?”_

_Draco nodded._

_Harry clicked his tongue._

_“Words, my little prince, use your words, you’re so good at that._

_“Yes, I understand,” Draco murmured._

_Harry clicked his tongue again._

_“Not quite, try again.”_

_Draco momentarily scrunched up his face, then realisation dawned on him._

_“Yes, Sir, I understand.”_

_“That’s better, I’m proud of you for remembering.”_

_The praise made Draco shudder again and Harry kissed him again. He lingered for a few moments, then pulled back and relaxed into the cushions behind him. He pushed the key to the door inside his jean pocket and with a smile, he placed one arm on the backrest of the chaise and the other on the armrest._

_“Eyes on the ground,” he instructed._

_Draco obediently lowered his head in silent compliance._

_Harry let a minute of silence pass._

_“Such a pretty boy you are, my little prince. I do like having you on your knees, do you know that?”_

_Draco’s head jerked a little, but before he could lift it, Harry clicked his tongue._

_“Cross your wrists behind your back.”_

_Harry issued another order and Draco executed it beautifully. He moved his hands from his lap behind his back and dutifully kept his head lowered and his eyes on the floor._

_“Perfect, just perfect. You are sinfully beautiful, let me enjoy this for a moment.”_

_Praising Draco for his flawless obedience came easy to Harry. He meant every word and knowing the effect it had on Draco, made it all the sweeter. He allowed himself two full minutes to appreciate Draco’s submissive pose, then stretched his hand out and silently summoned a very special kind of riding crop._

_It wasn’t all that much different from an ordinary riding crop really. It was plain black, had a comfortable, leather-clad handle with a wrist loop for extra support. The long fibreglass shaft, naturally covered in fabric for safety reasons, terminated at the thin flexible leather tongue, which really was the only special part about the crop Harry had chosen for his and Draco’s afternoon of kinky delight._

_A riding crop’s tress was generally made of leather and while this one indeed was, only on side of it was leather, the other side had an extra coating of soft black fur and was, much like a feather, designed for teasing not for causing any kind of discomfort…or pleasure — such was the beauty of a riding crop, depending on one’s preferences it could either be the cause of pain or of intense pleasure._

_Harry idly toyed with the crop for a few moments, then pushed the fur-coated part underneath Draco’s chin and forced him to lift his head._

_Draco stared at him and when Harry withdrew the crop’s tress from underneath his chin and showed him the toy, he inhaled sharply and a tremor surged through him. There was both trepidation and mild excitement in his eyes and Harry smiled warmly._

_“Do you trust me, my little prince?” he asked softly._

_Draco swallowed hard, then nodded._

_Harry clicked his tongue._

_“Use your words,” he reminded him._

_“Yes, Sir. Yes, I trust you.”_

_“That’s good. Now, I believe you’re a little bit overdressed for the occasion, don’t you agree? Be a good boy and pop the first two buttons of your shirt open for me.”_

_Draco slowly brought his hands out from behind his back and lifted them up. He carefully and with trembling fingers undid the two top buttons of his shirt, then let his hands drop into his lap. Harry gently ran the soft side of the crop’s tress along Draco’s neck and slipped it underneath the now open collar. He teased part of Draco’s collarbone and the top of his breastbone and in response, Draco let out a low audible breath and his eyes fluttered._

_“Feels good, doesn’t it, my little prince?” Harry asked._

_Draco nodded._

_“Yes, Sir,” he whispered._

_Harry smiled and continued to tease the little bit of exposed skin with the tress. He alternated between Draco’s left collarbone and his right collarbone and ran the tress from his breastbone up along his throat until it rested underneath his chin, then rubbed it along the sensitive part of skin just below Draco’s earlobe. The featherlight touch made Draco whimper softly and he shuddered a little._

_A while later, Harry decided to move things further along. He pressed the leathery side of the tress to Draco’s lips and gave him another order._

_“I want you to undo the rest of the buttons, my little prince.”_

_It took a bit of effort to undo the remaining buttons, mainly because Draco’s hands were shaking quite badly now but also, Harry suspected, because he kept the crop’s tress pressed to Draco’s lips, making it impossible for him to speak._

_Eventually, Draco managed to undo all the buttons and dropped his hands back into his lap._

_Harry tapped them gently with the crop and nudged them behind Draco’s back._

_“Hm, yes, that’s better. Keep them there until I tell you otherwise,” he instructed._

_He used the crop’s tress to move the open shirt and exposed Draco’s beautifully pale chest and licking his lips, Harry simply admired him for a few minutes._

_“You’re gorgeous, my sweet little prince,” he praised._

_Draco mewled, his eyelids fluttered and his tongue darted out of his mouth to wet his lips. He flushed at the sweet words of praise. Harry teased his reddened cheeks with the soft side of the tress, then dropped it to Draco’s left shoulder and nudged the unbuttoned shirt off it._

_It easily slid down Draco’s upper arm and Harry also pushed the shirt off Draco’s right shoulder, then began to tease the soft side of the tress up and down Draco’s arms, along his collarbone and the side of his neck._

_Draco whimpered softly._

_“What do you want, my little prince?” Harry asked._

_Draco stared at him with darkened smoky eyes, full of desire._

_“Touch me,” he whispered._

_Harry clicked his tongue._

_“Sir, please.”_

_“I am touching you, my sweet little prince, don’t be so greedy. All in good time.”_

_Harry smiled. He flipped the crop around and this time he traced Draco’s arms and his collarbone and the side of his neck with the leathery part of the tress._

_Draco let out a soft moan and Harry ran the very tip of the tress down the centre of Draco’s chest, from the little dip at the bottom of his throat to the top button of his trousers. Draco shuddered and flipping the tress around again, Harry used the soft side to tease Draco’s sides and then, finally, his nipples._

_He rubbed the soft fur over the hard nubs and Draco trembled, his mouth formed a perfect O-shape and he sighed. His eyelids fluttered and he had a hard time keeping them open but did his best not to let them fall fully closed._

_Harry teased mercilessly. He alternated between the soft furry side of the tress and the firmer leathery side and without once landing even a single blow, he drove Draco right out of his mind._

_“Please, Sir, please,” Draco whispered._

_Harry chuckled._

_“Please what? What do you want?”_

_“Please touch me, Sir, please,” Draco begged._

_Harry held his gaze for several seconds, then shook his head._

_“No.”_

_Draco whimpered and Harry dropped the riding crop’s tress into his lap. He could feel Draco’s cock strain against the fabric, its outline was clearly visible and Harry teased the long hard flesh with the tress._

_A desperate moan fell from Draco’s lips, followed by a breathless plea. Harry ignored it. Instead, he forced the tress between Draco’s thighs._

_“Spread your legs for me, my little prince.”_

_Draco shuffled a little and obediently parted his legs._

_“Now, lift that gorgeous arse of yours up in the air, no more sitting back on your haunches, that’s for lazy people, and you’re not lazy, are you, my beautiful little prince?”_

_“No, Sir.”_

_“Hm, yes, I thought so.”_

_Draco complied with his orders and Harry ran the leathery side of the crop’s tress up and down Draco’s inner thighs, then tapped it against the button and zipper of Draco’s trousers._

_“Take these off, I want you naked. You may move your hands.”_

_It took Draco several minutes to divest himself of all his clothes but eventually, he was naked as the day he’d been born. He resumed kneeling and moved his hands behind his back. Harry nodded in silent approval and let his eyes sweep over the naked pale skin on display._

_He teased the soft side of the tress up Draco’s left arm and the leathery side down Draco’s right arm then flipped back to the soft side and teased Draco’s sides, making him squirm. Harry tapped the tresses’ leathery side against Draco’s pert nipples, rubbed over them, then smacked them ever so gently. It was more of a tap than an actual smack but Draco let out a soft surprised moan and after a while, Harry dropped the crop and used the tress to nudge Draco’s legs further apart._

_“OK?” he asked._

_Draco nodded._

_“Yes, Sir.”_

_“Colour?”_

_“Green, Sir.”_

_Harry chuckled softly._

_“Your favourite,” he said._

_He ran the tress down the outside of Draco’s left thigh, then up the inside, down the inside of his right thigh and up the outside of it. He teased for several long minutes and until Draco pleaded with him to touch him._

_Harry denied him his request for the third time._

_“No,” he said quite firmly._

_Draco whimpered and Harry ran the soft side of the tress over Draco’s balls, rubbing the underside of them. Draco’s whimper turned into a moan and Harry rather unexpectedly flipped the tress over and ran the leathery side along Draco’s long shaft, teasing every single side, including the head, with the smooth but firm leather._

_Draco bucked his hips and moaned._

_“Please, Sir. I need— I want— Please, Sir.”_

_“What do you need, my little prince.”_

_“I need to come,” Draco said, followed by a desperate mewl._

_“Absolutely not. Don’t even think about it.”_

_Harry had no qualms about denying that request and Draco stared at him with watery eyes and a quivering bottom lip._

_“Please, Sir,” he begged._

_“No,” Harry said quite firmly._

_He tapped the crop’s long shaft warningly against the outside of Draco’s thigh._

_“The answer is no, my little prince,” he said, softening his voice a little. “You can do so much better than that, I know you can and if I know it, you can prove it to me.”_

_With those words, he leant forward, cupped Draco’s cheek and gave him a reassuring kiss. Draco melted against the palm of his hand and fervently responded to the kiss, clearly desperate for the little bit of skin on skin contact, Harry was offering._

_“You’re my good little prince, you can hold out a little longer,” Harry whispered._

_He pulled back, resumed his earlier position, and let his eyes roam over Draco’s body. His chest was heaving, his pale skin had red blotches all over it, his face flushed, and his eyes dark and smoky. He looked delectable, good enough to eat and slowly rising to his feet, Harry ran his fingers through Draco’s hair, then stepped behind him. He pressed the tip of the crop’s tress between Draco’s shoulder blades and gently nudged him forward._

_“Rest your chest against the chaise, my little prince,” he instructed._

_Draco bent forward and Harry ran the soft side of the tress down the centre of his back, then flipped it over and teased Draco’s pale arse cheeks with the leathery side. He ran the tress along the outside of Draco’s thighs, then the inside, nudged his legs further apart and teased his balls from behind, then rubbed along his cock, drawing the most delightful noises from Draco’s parted lips._

_He was a panting wanton mess and every fibre of his body was throbbing with desire._

_“Colour?” Harry asked softly while pressing the tress gently against the underside of Draco’s cock._

_Draco moaned, then answered._

_“Green, Sir.”_

_“Very good, are you ready for something a little more intense, my little prince?”_

_Draco sucked in a sharp breath._

_“Harry—”_

_“Yes, love?”_

_“What are you going to do?”_

_“Just a little sting to that gorgeous arse of yours. A bit of red to offset all that white milky skin,” Harry said and before Draco had the chance to properly contemplate it, he lifted the crop and brought the leathery side of the tress down on Draco’s buttock._

_Draco yelped and swore and Harry smiled. He’d used far less force than he did with his bare hand but a smack with a leather tress stung differently compared to the flat of his hand._

_“Fuck!” Draco exclaimed._

_“Was that a good fuck or a bad fuck?” he teased._

_“Ngh.”_

_Draco ground his teeth together._

_“Good,” he eventually said._

_Harry chuckled softly and rubbed the soft side of the tress over the mark he’d just left on Draco’s arse. He teased gently, softly, for a few moments, then ran the tip of the tress down the crack between Draco’s arse cheeks._

_Draco moved his hips and the tress slipped deeper into the crack. Harry guided it to his hole and rubbed over the sensitive flesh, teasing quite unashamedly so but pulling back when Draco started to roll his hips to cause more friction. Instead, he ran the tress up and down Draco’s spine, then delivered one more blow. It was much lighter than the first one and Draco only yelped because Harry had, quite deliberately, aimed for the exact same spot, he’d left a mark on before._

_“Turn around, my little prince, sit on the chaise and spread your legs for me.”_

_Draco awkwardly complied with the order and once he’d sat down, Harry used the crop’s tress to push him back into the cushions behind him. He summoned a bottle of lube and stepping in-between Draco’s legs, he handed it to him._

_“You want to come, don’t you, my little prince?”_

_Draco nodded mutely._

_“Touch yourself.”_

_Draco’s mouth dropped open and he stared disbelievingly. Harry held his gaze for a long moment then smiled devilishly._

_“I won’t do it for you, so if you want to come, you’ll have to make the effort or walk around with a hard cock for the rest of the afternoon. The choice is entirely yours,” he said with a nonchalant shrug and pulled his hand back._

_Draco made a strangled sound of protest, leapt forward, and snatched the bottle of lube from him._

_Harry chuckled._

_“Desperate much, my love?” he teased._

_Draco glowered up at him and Harry tapped the outside of his thigh with the crop._

_“None of that sass now, not in here,” he reprimanded Draco gently._

_“Sorry, Sir,” Draco apologised._

_His cheeks flushed a little and leaning forward, Harry braced himself on the leather chaise and captured Draco’s lips in a slow sensual kiss. When Draco attempted to wrap his arms around him and pull him down on top of him, Harry broke the kiss and took a step away._

_“Touch yourself,” he said, repeating his earlier order._

_Draco uncapped the bottle, spread a liberal amount of cool clear lube all over his hand and wrapped his long pale fingers around his cock. He hissed and carelessly dropping the bottle of lube onto the chaise beside him, he began to work his cock, giving it long slow strokes to tease himself._

_Harry watched, thoroughly enjoying the show. He ran the soft side of the crop’s tress along Draco’s leg, over his hip, up along his side and down his chest, then back up. He pushed the tress underneath Draco’s chin, forced him to meet his gaze and licked his lips._

_“How does it feel?” he asked._

_“Good, Sir.”_

_Harry smiled._

_“A little faster perhaps, then,” he suggested._

_Draco complied. His breathing grew fast and laboured and he clasped the fingers of his free hand around the edge of the leather chaise._

_“And you thought that the only way I could use this crop was to turn your behind a glorious shade of red, oh how wrong you were my little prince. I don’t need to deliver a single blow to control you with it. I could lay it across your chest and leave it there and you’d do anything I tell you to, wouldn’t you?”_

_“Yes, Sir,” Draco answered and blinked up at him._

_Harry forced Draco’s chin up a little more._

_“Such a good boy you are, stroking yourself for me,” he said with a smile._

_Draco melted and his eyelids fluttered at hearing Harry’s praise._

_“Tell me, my little prince, do you want to come?”_

_“Yes, Sir,” Draco breathed._

_“And do you have permission?”_

_“No, Sir.”_

_“Then stop.”_

_Draco let out an anguished sort of moan-sob but stilled his hand. Harry nudged it away from his cock, which was rock-hard and stood proudly between Draco’s legs, surrounded by perfectly trimmed light-blond pubes at the base._

_Harry teased the twitching flesh with the crop’s shaft, then delivered a sharp smack to the inside of Draco’s thigh._

_Draco groaned._

_“Heels up on the chaise, spread your legs as far as they’ll go.”_

_Draco obeyed._

_“Now, continue, my little prince. Go on, pleasure yourself.”_

_Draco’s hand returned to his cock and wrapping his fingers around his throbbing prick, he twisted them around the shaft and worked himself steadily._

_Harry watched. He teased the crop’s tress up and down the inside of Draco’s thighs, then slipped it between his buttocks and robbed the thin side of the tress against his hole, just like he’d done before._

_Draco moaned and pushed against the tress._

_Harry withdrew it and smacked the inside of his thigh, delivering a sharp blow._

_Draco gasped, then let out a low moan. His hand faltered but Harry nudged it with the tress and made him continue._

_After a while, Draco began to thrust up into his hand. He squirmed uncomfortably and looked up at Harry with pleading eyes._

_“Harry— I’m— I will— I’m close— I—”_

_“You will do no such thing. You do not have my permission.”_

_Harry snarled and leaning forward, he placed the crop diagonally across Draco’s chest. He reached for the bottle of lube and undoing his jeans, he let them slide down to his ankles, then spread a liberal amount of the clear liquid on his thick hard cock. He gave it a few strokes, then rearranged Draco on the leather chaise. He placed Draco’s left leg over the backrest of the chaise sofa, bend the right one at the knee and pushed it so far apart that Draco groaned in mild discomfort. Harry then placed Draco’s arms above his head and hold him to hold on to the armrest. He positioned himself, let the tip of his cock nudge Draco’s hole, then leant down and kissed him passionately._

_“If that crop falls you don’t get to come, my little prince,” he whispered against Draco’s quivering lips, then pushed into him with one swift move, breaking the tight muscles of Draco’s hole and filling him with his cock._

* * *

**Flashback End**

* * *

“For fuck’s sake, Potter!” Draco snapped, sounding thoroughly exasperated.

Harry jumped.

“Are we just going to stand outside the restaurant all morning or are we actually going in?”

Reprimanding himself for his lack of focus, Harry pushed his thoughts of the last month, and especially those of that riding crop, aside and shot Draco a killer smile with the very intention of appeasing his annoyed boyfriend.

“I just wanted to give you a few minutes to properly consider,” he said with a cheeky wink.

Draco rolled his eyes.

“And I told you I am sure I want to do this. I repeated myself three times.”

Draco countered with a dark glower.

Harry gave him a pointed look.

“You’re being sassy,” he said.

He held Draco’s gaze until he gave in and averted his eyes.

“There, that’s much better, such a good little prince.”

Harry praised him softly and taking a step closer, he slipped a single finger under Draco’s chin and pushed it up until they were once again looking into each other’s eyes.

“I do like your sass, never forget that,” he whispered and captured Draco’s lips in a slow, teasing kiss. As he pulled away, he ran his hand through Draco’s silky hair. “I’m sorry for zoning out on you, that wasn’t fair.”

“It’s alright, understand, can’t be easy standing next to a stunningly gorgeous man and being forced to content yourself with imagining what he looks like without his clothes on instead of being allowed to enjoy the real thing.”

Draco laughed and his eyes twinkled with mirth.

“You just wait until we get home, I will most definitely bend you over my knee and spank you until your arse cheeks are all red and throbbing. Then I’m going to make you sit on it until you squirm beg me for mercy,” Harry said with an entirely straight face and watched as Draco swallowed hard.

“You— you don’t— you don’t re—really mean that,” he stammered.

Harry kept his expression neutral.

“I absolutely do. If you have any objections you may use your safeword,” he said quite nonchalantly and tugging on Draco’s hand, he pulled him towards the entrance of the restaurant.

He pushed the door open and they both walked inside. Caleb had told him to ask for _The Stables_ , a private function room at the back. It comfortably fitted up to twenty people for a brunch and that suited Harry just fine.

A smaller munch was exactly what Draco needed for his first outing into the world of kink. He just needed to meet with a bunch of people who were a little more experienced than him, easy-going, and fun to be around.

He was just about to push the door open when Draco held him back.

“Harry?”

Harry turned to find Draco gnawing at his bottom lip. He looked a mixture between scared, worried, and somewhat shaken.

Leaving the door be, Harry pulled Draco to the side, cupped his cheek, and caressed it with his thumb.

“I think we both know that you’d rather enjoy if I spanked you, it wouldn’t be a punishment at all, just the beginning of a rather raunchy evening of hot, kinky sex,” he said in a hushed whisper, then stole a cheeky kiss from Draco and when he drew back, he watched his face carefully.

Draco relaxed a little and Harry squeezed his hand.

“I want you to go in there and be yourself not sit beside me and stare at the floor because you’re worried about upsetting me if you make a cheeky remark,” Harry said earnestly. “Please remember that.”

Draco nodded and smiled and Harry leant in to give him another kiss.

“Come on, let’s go inside before the other patrons complain about our blatant public display of affection.”

Harry grinned and tugging on Draco’s hand he pulled him into the private function room.

“Potter! You’re late!”

Caleb’s voice promptly boomed through the room and Harry turned his head to roll his eyes at Draco.

“You have my explicit permission to give him your best sass, I can’t beat him,” Harry mouthed.

Draco nodded in silent understanding and winked.

Harry chuckled to himself — this was going to be a whole lot of fun — and turned his attention to Caleb, who sat at the head of a long table across from the buffet table.

“Clearly not late enough, Reid. Where’s my coffee?” he asked

As usual, Caleb ignored his question. It had become a little bit of a game between them, one they both thoroughly enjoyed.

Pulling Draco along with him, Harry approached the table, then let go of Draco’s hand and reached for a pen. He carelessly scrawled his name onto the sign-in sheet and handed the pen to Draco.

Draco who took it and signed his name with an elegant flourish while Harry held the paper steady for him.

When Harry looked up, he caught Caleb raising a questioning eyebrow at him but instead of rising to the bait, he merely shrugged.

It wasn’t exactly customary for a Dom to help his sub with such simple tasks as signing a piece of paper and Harry could tell that Caleb had noticed his and Draco’s unusual dynamic and was rather confused by it.

Caleb reached for the sign-in sheet, glanced at it, and gave Draco a calculated once-over.

“Fancy scrawl, Draco Malfoy,” he said.

Harry bit back a smirk when Draco crossed his arms over his chest and regarded Caleb with an ice-cold Slytherin death glare.

“If it was a _scrawl_ , it wouldn’t be _legible_. Since you had no trouble deciphering my name, and even managed to pronounce it correctly, though I credit Harry for that, I would call it elegant penmanship, though _fancy_ works too, if you absolutely insist on using an adjective that describes imagination rather than appearance,” Draco said coolly.

Stifling a snort, Harry turned around and wordlessly headed to the buffet to help himself to a large cup of coffee.

He couldn’t help but wonder how Caleb might react if he was to return with a bowl of ice to soothe the perfect way in which Draco had so thoroughly burned his pride.

 _He’ll probably threaten to whip me_ , Harry mused and chuckled under his breath.

When he returned a few minutes later, holding two cups of coffee, he found Caleb standing, mimicking Draco’s pose.

“No wands,” he reminded Draco quietly as he handed him his coffee and added, “I’ve put extra sugar in it.”

“I don’t need a wand to duel him,” Draco smirked.

Idly sipping on his coffee, Harry glanced back and forth between Caleb and Draco. The two of them were engaged in an intense staring contest. He could practically feel the air crackle around them and shuddered a little.

 _Don’t give in, my little prince_ , he thought with a devious smirk.

He pulled up a chair, sat down, and casually continued drinking his coffee. He leant back and rested his right ankle on his left thigh, just above the knee.

Harry watched the silent showdown for a while but when it became apparent that neither Caleb nor Draco was about to give in and end the staring contest, he shifted his attention to Stefan and started chatting to him.

“He’s different.”

Stefan nodded towards Draco after a few minutes of exchanging pleasantries.

Harry smiled.

“Quite so,” he said.

He looked up he found that Draco and Caleb were still competitively glowering at one another, though at this stage Caleb was frowning while Draco looked downright bored.

“Reid, for the love of God, stop being a pillock. He’s a prosecutor, it’s his job to twist your words and fuck with your mind and he’s damn good at it,” Harry intervened.

Caleb shot him a positively withering glare and although he sat down, he defiantly kept his arms crossed.

Harry smirked into his coffee cup.

In all the years he had known Caleb, he had never seen him this rattled.

Draco was getting to him and Harry couldn’t deny that he liked it.

“Never try to outstare a snake, we don’t blink,” Draco mumbled under his breath, then gracefully turning on his heel, he sauntered off to the buffet.

Harry stared after him for a moment and rather uncomfortably shifted in his chair. He was half-hard and truly grateful that he had chosen to wear a pair of loose jeans. They did a semi-decent job of concealing his predicament although, despite the extra legroom, they wouldn’t be able to completely hide a full-on erection; he knew that much.

“You told me he is—” Caleb started.

Harry interrupted him before he finished that sentence.

“I never said that it applied outside the bedroom,” he smirked. “Although he’s partial to that as well.”

Caleb frowned.

“Are you sure he is—”

“Submissive?” Harry finished the question. “Yes, but he’s got a ton of sass, which I love, though I can see it bothers you a great deal.”

“I see,” Caleb smiled.

He uncrossed his arms and reached for his own coffee mug. Harry watched him finish it, then subtly set it down in front of Stefan, who took it and rose to his feet before walking off to the buffet to get Caleb a refill.

“I understand why you were so apprehensive at first, he’s got a brazen mouth on him.”

“And I love him for it,” Harry said.

He glanced around the room, waved at a few familiar faces, then turned his attention back to his coffee and his conversation with Caleb.

“How is it going with you two?” Caleb asked.

Stefan returned with his coffee and sliding an arm around low around his waist, he pulled him close in a possessive but affectionate gesture.

“Thank you, pet.”

Stefan beamed down at him and was about to sit down when he spotted one of his friends.

Harry caught him looking at Caleb for permission to go off on his own and Caleb gave him a small, approving nod.

“Thank you, C,” Stefan smiled.

He extracted himself from Caleb’s embrace but just before he could walk off, Caleb caught his wrist and pulled him down for a brief kiss.

Harry had the decency to look away to give them a moment of privacy.

He drank his coffee and felt the urge to look around the room for Draco but resisted. It was a private function room in a restaurant, Draco was fine. He was a grown man and didn’t need constant supervision.

“You two are rather smitten,” he said shortly after Stefan had left to join his friend.

Caleb winked at him. There was an excited sort of gleam in his eyes that Harry hadn’t seen before but he had to admit that Caleb wore it rather well.

“What can I say, Cupid’s Arrow hit the right spot. Now, I’m sorry, you were about to tell me about you and that fiery dragon of yours.”

Harry grinned.

“Was I?”

Caleb gave him a pointed look.

“Next time you come running to me in the middle of the night, I’m just going to ignore you pounding on my front door.”

“You’re so petty,” Harry chuckled.

“Honestly, it’s going great. I think the fact that we’re both here today proves that quite clearly. He’s a fast learner. He’s also keen.”

Caleb nodded and Harry moved his ankle off his thigh when Draco approached him and made it rather obvious that he intended to sit in his lap.

“Sandwiches for you, cake and chocolate croissants for me,” he said.

Harry kissed him and delighted in the faint blush that coloured Draco’s cheeks a lovely shade of pink.

“You’re a bold little pet sitting on your Dom’s lap like that,” Caleb said.

Harry didn’t quite manage to swallow the groan that flew out of the depths of his throat and to the tip of his tongue. Caleb had not just said that…

“You’re worse than a bear with a pot of honey, Reid. Just can’t resist the temptation to get your arse kicked,” he sighed.

Then, before he could say anything else, Draco rose to his own defence.

“First of all, I am not a pet. I never have been nor will I ever be anyone’s pet. While I don’t dispute that some people may enjoy being someone’s pet or relish in the use of such a term of endearment, I do not count myself amongst that crowd. For the time being, you may address me as Mr Malfoy, however, if you lose that impudent childish behaviour of yours, which is entirely unbecoming for someone your age, I will accept your use of my first name,” Draco said.

He took a bite of a small chocolate cake and looked entirely unperturbed.

Harry casually placed his hand on Draco’s thigh and squeezed it a little.

“Furthermore, I’m not quite sure how sitting on my _boyfriend’s_ lap constitutes as being bold but if it makes you uncomfortable, I gladly will move to a chair. I do respect your boundaries,” Draco continued.

Harry grabbed a small sandwich from the plate, Draco had placed on the table in front of them. He wasn’t particularly hungry but he suddenly felt the urge to give his mouth something to do.

Draco’s sass did unspeakable things to him and he wanted to drag him home and have his wicked way with him.

“I concede, stay where you are, _Draco_. Honestly, Potter, I don’t know how you put up with him, I’d have caned him raw if he treated me like that,” Caleb said with a dirty smirk.

“Practise,” Harry smiled.

He stroked Draco’s thigh reassuringly to let him know that he had no intention of using a cane, or any other impact toy, on him — for the most part, he did not consider Draco’s sass to be a punishable offence.

“We went to school together, remember?” he reminded Caleb of his and Draco’s history.

“Don’t tell me he was always like this!”

Caleb pretended to look horrified and laughing, Harry squeezed Draco’s thigh again.

“Worse, he’s since learnt some manners. I could tell you stories… There was that one time he made and handed out badges that read _Potter Stinks_ because he couldn’t get over the fact that I was better at chasing a ball than he was.”

“Potter, you do realise that I’m right here, don’t you?”

Draco glowered and Harry blew him a kiss and smiled sweetly.

“Of course. You’re sitting on my lap; how could I forget? I’m sorry, did I say something untrue?” he teased.

Draco regarded him for a moment, then silently finished off his chocolate cake. While he hadn’t used his words, his expression spoke volumes. It said something like _you just wait, Potter_ but a moment later, he relaxed and smiled.

“You didn’t, I acknowledge, was quite a brat back in Ho—”

Draco cut himself off with a cough when Harry dug his nails firmly into Draco’s thigh.

“Back in secondary school, I mean,” he corrected himself.

Harry sighed with relief.

A close one.

“You’re an odd pair.”

Caleb shook his head and laughed.

“However, there’s no denying that you two have chemistry.”

“We have plenty of chemistry, especially the explosive kind,” Harry chuckled.

They continued their easier banter for a little longer.

Eventually, though, the conversation turned to their respective jobs and Caleb shared a few rather entertaining stories from his firehouse, including one where they had tried to rescue a kitten from a tree but had ended up rescuing the firefighter who had climbed the tree and managed to get stuck together with the kitten.

Draco slowly warmed up to Caleb and willingly shared a few tales from his own job and Harry was once again mesmerised to see the effort Draco was making around his friends. It was the ultimate proof of how much he had completely changed since the end of the war.

Harry was also pleased to note that Draco tried his hardest to censor himself as to not accidentally out himself as a wizard. He did slip up once when he almost said something about Muggles but Harry squeezed his thigh firmly and that was enough for Draco to catch himself.

At some point, Stefan returned to their corner of the table and the four of them chatted amicably until Stefan attempted to whisk Draco away to introduce him to a few people.

That was the first time that Draco looked at Harry and while it very much looked like he was asking for permission, Harry knew that Draco was just unsure and was looking for reassurance.

Harry smiled and gave him a soft nod. He encouraged him to wander off and chat to a few people. It took a little bit of persuasion and some mild coaxing but eventually Draco gave in and walked off with Stefan, who, despite being a little younger than Draco, most definitely had a little more experience and kindly took him under his wing.

Since Harry knew most of the people, who had turned up at this morning’s casual meet-up, he didn’t bother to mingle but remained at the table and chatted with Caleb.

They mainly discussed a few new toys and several of the upcoming events at Pandora’s Box.

When Caleb asked whether Harry planned to bring Draco along to the club, he shook his head and reasoned that Draco wasn’t ready for that kind of culture shock just yet.

Well over an hour later when Draco returned to the table, looking exhilarated and giddy, Harry couldn’t help but rethink his earlier decision.

He had somewhat misjudged Draco when it had come to his playroom and he was rather sure that, if given a bit more time, Draco would be interested in discovering the secrets of Pandora’s Box.

Harry made a mental note to speak to Draco about it at some point in the future and when Caleb politely excused himself from the table, he focused on Draco and listened with rapt attention as he excitedly shared his experience of chatting with other like-minded people about the various aspects of domination and submission.

By the time Draco had finished, Harry couldn’t help but cradle his face in his hands and draw him in for a passionate kiss that left them both slightly breathless and Draco thoroughly flushed.

They prepared to leave the munch about half an hour later and although they had already said goodbye to Caleb, he stopped them at the door and Harry decided that the cheeky glint in his eyes meant Caleb was most definitely up to no good.

“A question, Mr Malfoy, before we part ways,” he said quite respectfully.

Harry bit his tongue to suppress a chuckle.

Draco inclined his head.

“Certainly.”

“Potter here is rather, shall we say, _tight-lipped_ about his safeword, but I’m sure he’s told you all about it. Care to satisfy my curiosity and indulge me on whatever that poor sod Tom Riddle did to deserve being turned into a safeword?”

Harry groaned and glared daggers at Caleb, then warily glanced at Draco.

Up until now, and given their history, he hadn’t told Draco about his safeword and although he was aware that they should have had that conversation at some point over the last month he hadn’t been prepared to go there — while he preferred his own safeword, _red_ worked just as well for him.

He was fully aware that he should have jumped over his own shadow but anything involving the war was and would always be a touchy subject.

Besides, he couldn’t help but reason, in all the years since he had chosen _Tom Riddle_ as his safeword he had only screamed it once and that had been when Charlie had pushed him so far past anything, he had been able to handle, that he hadn’t had a choice but to use it — which had been what Charlie had been trying to achieve but that was another memory for another day.

Now that the cat was out of the bag, he couldn’t help but watch Draco’s face closely for his reaction as he anxiously waited for his response.

“I wish I could tell you but I haven’t got the foggiest idea,” Draco answered with a sense of poise, Harry found intensely arousing.

“And for the record, even if I did, there’s no torture device in the world that could make me give up any of Harry’s secrets,” he added.

Harry automatically reached for Draco’s hand and squeezed it tightly. He circled his thumb over the pulse point on the inside of his wrist and conveyed his admiration for Draco without the use of words.

Caleb turned to face Harry and smiled knowingly.

“I always felt there was a wicked story behind your choice of a safeword, and your fierce dragon here just confirmed all my suspicions,” he said.

Caleb reached out and surprised Harry somewhat when he squeezed his shoulder and patted his back.

“If you let this one go, Potter, if you fuck this up and let him walk away, I will personally punish you so hard you won’t know what hit you and how many times.”

Harry tensed a little, inhaled sharply, and tightened his hold on Draco’s hand, then forced himself to gradually relax.

“I can assure you, Reid, I’ve got no intention of letting this one go, he’s everything I’ve always wanted and the only way I will let him walk is if that’s what _he_ wants because I’ve fallen hook, line, and sinker.”

“Threatening an officer of the law in front of a prosecutor,” Draco clicked his tongue.

“Utterly stupid thing to do, Mr Reid, I’d watch my back if I was you.”

He chuckled and the three of them shared a laugh before Caleb bid them goodbye and they left.

They exited the restaurant in silence, Harry confidently walking ahead of Draco, and strolled down Great Titchfield St.

The weather was glorious and the sun was warm and Harry grinned like a loon.

They strolled down the pavement and came to a casual stop near a narrow alleyway that led into a small courtyard.

There Harry turned to face Draco, who regarded him with a curious expression.

“So, Tom Riddle, then?”

Draco posed the question with an air of professionalism that was both unnecessary and admirable at the same time.

Harry nodded.

“I’ve no problem using _red_ , but this is my absolute last resort and I apologise for not having told you before, but well…” he trailed off, a little unsure of what to say or how to justify himself.

“You know, Harry, after that long conversation we had about the importance of safewords, I thought long and hard and I figured yours might be one related to the war but in my mind, you had settled for Lord Voldemort. I do realise that this makes me special kind of insane, but I’ll wear that badge proudly for you, Harry Potter,” Draco said quietly.

Harry felt the shudder that went through him as Draco uttered the name of the darkest wizard to ever walk the surface of the earth. It wasn’t that he was afraid of the name, he had never been, it was just that it brought back unwanted memories of very dark times and it filled him with a fury he sometimes didn’t know how to control.

“When Charlie asked me to pick a safeword, that was my first thought, but that name doesn’t scare me in the slightest. It never did, it only fills me with revulsion and hatred so deep I can barely breathe,” Harry said.

He felt Draco free his hand from his grasp but didn’t stop him.

Neither did he stop him when Draco sandwiched his hand between the palms of his own hands.

He smiled softly and looked Draco straight in the eye.

“Tom Riddle. That name, it puts the fear of God into me. Dumbledore showed me memories, memories of a sweet young boy, left to fend for himself in a world that didn’t want him. It ruined him, it turned him into the manipulative megalomaniac he was when I finally took him down on the second of May, 1998.”

Draco nodded softly and for a moment they stood in silence, both lost in their own thoughts as they remembered those horrid times, times when the desperate need to survive, to live to see just one more day, had kept them going, had enabled them to do things that were beyond the capabilities of ordinary teenagers.

Harry tried to think of a way to lift the sombre mood that had settled around them but it was Draco who spoke first.

“Dobby,” he said and Harry gasped.

He hadn’t heard that name in a long time.

He hadn’t even thought about the sweet elf, in many years.

Not because he wanted to forget, but because it hurt too much to go there. So many years had passed since the little creature had bled out in his arms after—

Overcome by an irrational bout of anger for a woman that was long dead, Harry snarled.

“Bellatrix killed him,” he said.

He spoke through gritted teeth and his hand curled around Draco’s wrist and squeezed tightly.

He needed something or someone to anchor himself to before his resentment got the better of him.

Bellatrix Lestrange had taken the lives of too many people he held dearly.

“I know,” Draco said softly. “I saw her fling the knife.”

“Why did you bring him up?” Harry asked, schooling the tone of his voice.

He had no reason to be angry at Draco; he didn’t want to be angry with Draco. He knew Draco hadn’t brought Dobby into the conversation to hurt him.

“If you permit, I’d like _Dobby_ to be my safeword. He was the sweetest, kindest, and the most caring creature I ever knew, yet my father treated him worse than the dirt on his shoe. At the time I was too young to realise Father was wrong and by the time I did, it was too late to do anything about it. When I was young, Dobby, he always treated me kindly. Not because he was bound to serve the Malfoy family but because it was in his nature and—”

“And this is how you want me to treat you. With kindness and respect.”

Harry finished Draco’s sentence with a smiled.

An intense kind of warmth spread from the centre of his chest throughout his body and he resolutely walked Draco into the narrow alleyway and pushed him into a doorway that shielded them perfectly. He cupped Draco’s face with his hands and pressed a possessive kiss to his lips.

“Your submission to me, Draco, if you’re willing to give it to me, is the greatest gift you could ever give me and I promise you, I will _always_ treat you with kindness and with the love and respect you deserve,” he whispered and kissed Draco again.

“I accept your choice, it is a very good one,” he mumbled against Draco’s lips.

He deepened the kiss and claimed Draco’s mouth with his lips and tongue, kissing him fiercely and passionately.

Harry lost himself in the heat of the moment and wrapping his arms around Draco’s waist, he pulled him as close against his body as he could and didn’t stop kissing him until they were both breathless and desperate for oxygen.

It was only then that he grudgingly pulled away and stared at Draco. He watched as Draco slowly raised his hands over his head and crossed them at the wrist, then looked him straight in the eye.

“Take me home, Sir, I’m yours,” he whispered.

He lowered his gaze submissively and fixed his eyes on Harry’s chest.

Harry growled and was entirely unable to resist the intense need to possess that washed over him.

He wanted Draco with everything he had and he wasn’t going to settle, not when Draco was offering himself up to him on a silver platter. He placed one hand over Draco’s crossed wrists and roughly pinned them to the wooden door, he had him pressed up against.

“Then what?” he growled.

He wanted, no, _needed_ to know how far Draco wanted to take this.

“To do as you please, Sir, I trust you and I have a safeword.”

Draco responded without looking up and Harry squeezed Draco’s hip hard enough to force a moan from him.

“Fuck, Draco, you’re perfect. Wonderful, amazing, beautiful and perfect and I love you so much,” he whispered.

He tightened his hold on Draco, closed his eyes, focused and apparated them both straight to Draco’s flat.

He had wanted to take Draco home to Grimmauld Place but with unrestrained access to his playroom and Draco’s permission to do as he pleased, he didn’t trust himself to hold back.

No, he needed them to be somewhere where he could twist Draco’s mind and reap the gift of his submission without pushing Draco’s boundaries beyond what Harry knew he was able to take.

 _Some other time_ , he thought as they landed in Draco’s living room and he simultaneously undid his jeans and forced Draco to his knees in front of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realised that it's been a while since I shared a few songs from my LPK playlist with you and decided the matter needed remedying. So, in no particular order and without giving away which scene / chapter the song may have inspired, I offer you the following beautiful tunes:
> 
> ["Camila Cabello - Crying in the Club"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NlrYn_dZdqk)  
> ["OneRepublic - Let's Hurt Tonight"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8wGN7D03Nho)  
> ["Casey Veggies - Tied Up ft. DeJ Loaf"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uSEvpgohpfU)  
> ["Bryan Adams - Everything I Do (I Do It For You)"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NbweTi6RPpI) (I don't need to explain this choice, do I?)  
> ["Simon Curtis – Flesh"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LIWavX2JMv8)  
> ["Robbie Williams - Come Undone"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4D35vfQ7eZg)  
> ["Dagny ft Børns - Fool's Gold"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qz4wPWf4KJo)  
> ["Fall Out Boy - Irresistible ft. Demi Lovato"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Lb2BiUC898)  
> ["Muse - Undisclosed Desires"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R8OOWcsFj0U)  
> ["John Legend - This Time"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mbMWnaD3fhI)  
> ["John Legend - All Of Me"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3_b3b93hNIU)


	33. Meet My Ex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)  
> 
> 
> Well, folks, I did promise you at least one chapter over the weekend and since I like to keep my promise, here it is.
> 
> Once again, thanks a lot for your lovely comments, kudos and continued support, I really do appreciate it A LOT and I can't believe how many people are subscribed to this story and reading it - thank you for taking this journey with me.
> 
> I especially enjoy engaging with you through comments (or Tumblr if you want). Also, absolutely no apologies for the long Author's Notes, I do love my soapbox *grin* though today I've got no long ramble for you. I am however taking requests, so if there's something you'd like my opinion on, feel free to let me know.
> 
> Just a friendly reminder though, do be nice (I mean you have been very good so far ( _Harry says to tell you all, he approves and is presently not inclined to get his riding crop, unless of course you enjoy that sort of play, in which case he'll happily indulge you!_ ), just remember if you've got something constructive to say, I'm not in your head so you will need to be specific about it, otherwise misunderstandings happen and those are never fun).
> 
> Now, enough of this. On with the chapter. It's another long one. Also, don't drink and read, I have it on good authority that it causes a choking hazard and I'd hate for you not to live to see the end of this story.

* * *

Sunday afternoon found Harry, happy to enjoy the warm autumn sunshine and a much-needed stretch of legs, accompanying Draco to The Pavilion Café all the way out near Highgate Wood to meet Kona, the dog that had stolen a large part of Draco’s heart, for a playdate in the park and her owner for coffee and cakes.

Harry was rather excited about the prospect of meeting Malcolm. Draco had told him a little about his friend and from the few stories Draco had shared — granted most of Draco’s tales revolved around Kona but Malcolm had made the one or other appearance — he’d decided that he quite liked the man. He seemed mature, funny, and responsible, and exactly the sort of a person Harry could see Draco wanting to spend time with.

He did sometimes wonder about the true extent of Draco’s and Malcolm’s relationship but so far, Draco hadn’t told him and even though he was curious, Harry hadn’t given into his desire to ask. This was Draco’s story to tell and he deserved to tell it in his own time. After all, they both had a post-war past they had yet to share with each other and Harry was in no rush to put all his cards on the table, neither did he want Draco to feel pressured into doing the same.

If there was one thing that Harry was not worried about it was that they were always honest with each other and he was proud that candid conversation had become part of the foundation of their relationship. It had taken a while for them to find their footing but these days Harry was confident that they’d managed to create something special, something unique, something that worked for them.

Despite his reluctance to spent his weekend at work, Harry had grudgingly given in to working overtime. He’d tried — and, of course, failed — to catch up on a few reports that were due the following week. But somehow, no matter how many forms he signed, the stack of paperwork on his desk refused to dwindle down and at some point, Harry had seriously contemplated setting the whole pile on fire.

Only a strong cup of tea and a few biscuits had distracted him from reaching for his wand to cast the spell.

That and Draco, who had walked into his office right around the third time, Harry had felt the strong desire to burn his desk and everything on it down with a powerful _Incendio_.

Thankfully, Draco had been a most welcome distraction and seeing him had resulted in Harry banishing any and all thoughts to turn part of his office into ash. Draco had looked good enough to eat in his grey jeans and midnight-blue jumper and Harry had found his attention thoroughly diverted — in the best possible way.

He’d expressed a great interest in bending Draco over his desk and having his wicked way with him to which Draco had rolled his eyes most dramatically. He had then allowed Harry to get away with some teasing and had been more than willing to spend several long minutes snogging but Harry’s dirty office sex fantasy remained just that — a fantasy.

At the memory of Draco, dressed in his stylish but casual Muggle clothes, standing in the doorway of his office, Harry drifted a little, but before he could properly indulge and lose himself in his kinky thoughts, Draco pulled him to a halt.

“Why are we stopping?” Harry asked.

He was mildly confused and just a tiny little bit cross about having been dragged out of his little fantasy before he’d had the chance to properly indulge in it.

“Erm—”

Draco flushed a little.

“I may have a confession to make before you meet Kona’s owner,” he said.

Harry raised a curious eyebrow at him.

“He’s a Muggle, yes, I know, you mentioned. I’m over the surprise that you’ve come around and decided that Muggles are good people after all, even if they don’t have any magic.”

Harry smiled.

Ignoring his good-natured dig at his past, Draco’s eyes nervously darted around the place and Harry sensed that there was something else Draco was worried about.

He took a step closer and taking Draco’s hand, he laced their fingers together.

“What is it?” he asked softly.

Draco harrumphed a bit, clearly stalling for time.

“I may have deliberately forgotten to mention that _Malcolmisactuallymyex_ ,” he eventually said.

He looked positively uncomfortable as he confessed to the true nature of his relationship with Kona’s owner.

Harry held his gaze. He suppressed the urge to smile — as expected then. At some point or other Draco had been more than friends with Malcolm. One look at Draco told Harry all he needed to know; he had absolutely nothing to worry about. They were a couple and Harry did not begrudge Draco a friendship. They were in a relationship and yes, Harry enjoyed spending as much time with Draco as possible but at the same time, he had no wish to isolate him from the people that had been in his life before they’d started dating.

He was about to tell Draco that when Draco continued talking or rather began to nervously explain himself.

“We dated shortly after I started working as a public defender at the Ministry and for a while after. I wanted to understand Muggles better and I wanted to understand myself better and so I kept going to all these gay Muggle bars and clubs and— well— one night— I met Malcolm and we— well, we kind of clicked. We were together for a couple of years— two actually— but it’s been over for quite some time and— we— it’s just that we’re— we’re still good friends and I mean he doesn’t know about magic or that I’m a wizard but he’s a really cool guy and—” 

“Draco?”

Harry interrupted gently, trying to get a word in edgewise but Draco kept talking.

“We’re just friends. There’s nothing going on. We never engaged in casual sex or anything after we broke up— We just— we kind of realised we were better suited as friends and I really liked the fact that he never judged me and that he didn’t know about any of my mistakes during the war and I could just be the person I wanted to become with him—”

“Draco!”

Harry interrupted again but this time he made sure to sound a little more authoritative.

It had the desired effect.

Draco shut up, swallowed hard and looked at him with mild trepidation.

He looked a bit like he was trying to work out whether he should panic and run or whether the situation was perfectly safe. It was rather endearing, though Harry decided that it would probably be wiser if he kept that thought to himself, especially if he wanted to avoid Draco drawing his wand and hitting him with a stinging hex.

“I’m sorry, I should have told you when you first met Kona but I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea so I just told you Malcolm was a friend—”

“Draco, will you shut up already? You’re acting like I’ve got you in interrogation, asking you a million and one personal questions.”

Harry said to him and smiling, he took a step closer and combed his fingers through Draco’s hair.

“I’m perfectly okay with you being friends with your ex, you are entitled to choose your own friends and I will never tell you who you can and can’t see, this is not how I work. I am friends with Ginny, aren’t I? Although let’s be honest, that disaster of a teenage romance can’t really be called a relationship.”

Harry chuckled.

“You’re not mad?”

Draco looked a little taken aback and Harry frowned.

“Why? Should I be?”

Draco sighed.

“I didn’t tell you he was my ex.”

“Hm, yes you didn’t, that’s true,” Harry nodded.

“Now, the question is, did you deliberately do that because you were hoping I’d punish you for keeping this from me or did you just do it because you thought I might be jealous?”

Draco opened and closed his mouth but no words came out.

Harry laughed. He sensed the perfect opportunity to tease Draco a little.

“If you want a spanking, my sweet little prince, all you have to do is ask. If you want the riding crop, all you need to do is ask. If you want something else, something a little spicier, all you need do is ask. I’ll give you anything you want, you know that.”

“I— I didn’t— I mean— I don’t—”

Draco stammered. His cheeks pinked and he sounded and looked so endearing that Harry couldn’t resist the temptation to shut him up with a searing kiss.

“I love flustering you, do you know that? It’s become one of my favourite pastimes.”

He whispered against Draco’s lips, then pulled away to look at Draco’s face.

“Look, I’m not mad. So, this Malcolm guy used to shag you a couple of years ago. I knew you weren’t a blushing virgin when we started dating, although if you wanted ever to behave like one, I would find that entirely acceptable.”

Harry paused to smirk and delighted in the way that Draco’s blush intensified and his eyes widened.

“Mmm, delectable, we should do this sometime, would make for a nice roleplay. You a blushing submissive virgin and me your dominant date with a one-track-mind. Yes, absolutely, this fantasy has definite potential, I would thoroughly enjoy repeatedly popping your cherry.”

Draco coughed.

“You have some weird kinks, Potter.”

He shook his head but a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and his beautiful silvery-grey eyes gleamed with mischief.

Harry winked at him.

“You don’t even know half of it, my love, besides, I don’t see you turned off by what I’m suggesting.”

“Strangely enough I am not. I think you’ve completely led me astray.”

Harry chuckled.

“I’ve barely begun, Draco, I’ve barely begun. Now, are we just going to start right here and talk about kinks or are you going to take me to meet your ex and his dog? Because, honestly, either one is fine by me.”

“Will you promise not to be jealous?”

Harry grinned.

“Only if he’s not hot.”

Draco glared daggers in response to that and Harry decided that he’d teased enough and that he should probably behave.

“Fine, I promise I won’t be jealous, but I reserve the right to remain fiercely possessive of you, my little pet dragon.”

Draco rolled his eyes but said nothing more on the subject.

They walked the rest of the way in silence and even continued to hold hands.

Harry whistled, though completely off-key, and swayed their linked hands back and forth until they reached the coffee house.

There, he had to let go of Draco’s hand when a barking Golden Retriever dashed up to them at top speed. Kona repeatedly jumped up at Draco and nearly sent him flying onto his arse and it took Harry every ounce of self-restraint not to burst out laughing at the sight of Draco trying his best to protect himself from having his face covered with slobbery dog kisses.

It took a good few minutes before Draco managed to calm Kona down enough that he could manage to grab her leash. He told her to sit and she grudgingly did so but waggled her tail excitedly, sending a whole lot of gravel flying left and right.

When Draco asked her if she remembered Harry, she immediately jumped up and barked enthusiastically, sniffing at Harry’s hands and his trousers.

Harry rubbed her head and she pushed her wet snout against his wrist and sat down before him, expectantly looking up at him.

Draco snorted.

“Even dogs submit to you.”

He rolled his eyes and Harry laughed.

“Don’t worry, I won't leave you for her, I prefer taming dragons,” he said, then found himself thoroughly distracted when a tall Adonis with a muscular body, bronzed skin, dark brown hair, and a big welcoming smile approached them.

Harry cast a sideways glance at Draco and frowned at the beaming smile on his face. He was mature enough not to read anything into the situation but he still felt intensely possessive when Draco greeted his ex with a friendly hug and Kona excitedly jumped at them both.

“Harry, meet Malcolm.”

Draco introduced them and Harry accepted when Malcolm extended his hand. He grabbed it firmly and as they shook hands, he caught Malcolm’s knowing grin.

At least he thought it was a knowing grin.

“So, you’re the special guy I’ve heard so much about,” Malcolm said.

“Come on, I’ve got us all a table outside, the weather is too good to sit inside. Kona’s already ordered a big bowl of fresh water.”

As they followed Malcolm to the table, Harry couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at Draco, who looked just a little bit uncomfortable.

“Just how much did you tell him?” he asked quietly, trying his best to suppress a smirk.

“Erm—”

For a moment, Draco looked rather uncomfortable. He dithered for a while, then confessed.

“Before we started dating properly, or, well, before we slept together for the first time, I may have been a little frustrated with you being so restrained so I talked to Malcolm about it.”

Harry chuckled.

“Funny how those roles are completely reversed now. Lately, it’s always you who is restrained.”

Draco glowered at him and Harry said nothing else. They caught up with Malcolm and sat down at a nice round table. Draco let go of Kona’s leash and she trotted over to her water bowl and noisily slobbered up half of it before she returned to the table and politely sat down on the ground beside Malcolm. She waited for him to pet her, then rested her head on his thigh for a while before moving to get comfortable underneath his chair.

“You’ve got her well-trained,” Harry said.

The first time he’d met Kona when Draco had looked after her, her level of devotion had thoroughly surprised him. That and her ability to follow orders. She had a bit of a wild disposition but overall, she knew how to behave herself. She did remind Harry a little bit of Draco. He, too, was a bit of a wild one, loved being sassy and had a scathing tongue, but at the end of the day, he thoroughly enjoyed it when Harry told him what to do and Harry couldn’t help but think that Draco would make a lovely pet indeed, although he had no intention to share that thought with Draco — somehow, he was sure it was the fastest way to find himself on the receiving end of a rather nasty curse, hex, or jinx.

Malcolm nodded.

“Hm, yes, she’s very eager to please.”

“I can see that. She’s very acquiescent,” Harry said.

He then decided to be a little bold after all — he simply couldn’t help it, he enjoyed pushing Draco’s buttons as much as Draco enjoyed pushing his. It was a little game they played.

“I wish my pet was that eager to please.”

Harry grinned slyly and made sure to keep his eyes fixed on Draco as he spoke.

“Some pets are harder to tame than others,” Malcolm said.

“Yes, indeed. Mine is rather headstrong and willful. He needs more of a firm grip. But I guess dragons are a lot more work than a dog,” Harry said.

He just about managed to stop himself from telling Malcolm that he had a friend who was in the business of taming real, fire-spewing dragons and that Charlie would be too happy to offer advice or a helping hand when it came to taming Draco.

“Are you two quite finished?”

Draco looked rather put out and reaching across the table, Harry attempted to take his hand but Draco pulled it out of his reach.

 _Oh, you did not just do that, little prince,_ Harry thought and very much wished he could take Draco home tonight to teach him a lesson about showing your Dom a bit of respect.

Alas, they had yet to reach that level in their relationship and he wasn’t about to push Draco into anything he wasn’t ready for.

“Finished with that?” Malcolm asked.

He looked completely nonchalant and Harry silently praised him for his ability to conceal the fact that they’d just had a very kinky discussion.

“I’m sorry, Draco, I thought you wanted your Harry and me to be friends, we’re just bonding.”

“Bonding my arse!”

Draco huffed and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Harry doesn’t have a pet! No dog and most definitely no dragon, not that those creatures exist.”

 _Nice save_ , Harry thought, amused. For the fact that Draco had grown up in a pureblood wizarding family, he’d really become quite apt at interacting with Muggles.

“He doesn’t?” Malcolm asked with a smirk. “Harry, is that true?”

Harry smirked.

“Well, it is and it isn’t. You see, I’m in the process of acquiring a pet. We’ve bonded several times, but he’s not quite ready for the permanent thing.”

“Ah, that’s a pity,” Malcolm said. “I hope it works out.”

Harry nodded.

“So, do I.”

He bit back a laugh when Draco abruptly rose to his feet and announced that he was going to find them some menus.

This time, Harry caught his wrist before he managed to stalk off and tugged at it.

“Menu is on the table, my love,” he said with a smile.

He remained entirely unperturbed when Draco’s eyes narrowed into tiny slits and he glowered icily.

“Waiter then, I’m gonna find a waiter.”

Draco remained resolute, abruptly yanked his hand away and disappeared inside the café.

Malcolm sighed.

“Oh dear, he’s upset. I think we may have taken it a bit too far, Harry. He’s a sensitive soul.”

Harry inclined his head in agreement.

“I better go and fix this, although I’ve no doubt that I’ll pay the price later. I’ll get us all a round of coffee while I am at it. Any special request?”

“Flat White with an extra shot,” Malcolm replied.

Harry got to his feet. He headed inside the café and after a short look around he found Draco in front of the cake display and sidled up next to him.

“The chocolate fudge cake looks delicious,” he suggested.

He inwardly flinched when Draco turned his head to merely glare at him, then turned back to look at the cakes. He pointedly raised his chin up a little higher and pursed his lips.

“I’m sorry, Draco, I didn’t mean to upset you, and I’m sure neither did Malcolm, it was just frivolous banter between two guys,” Harry apologised.

He slipped his hand into Draco’s and squeezed gently. Harry fully expected him to pull away but was pleased when he didn’t.

“I couldn’t quite understand why you were always so assertive and bossy and enjoyed being in control and all that, yet only ever teased but never made a proper move on me. That was way before I knew what it really and before we’d even slept together for the first time. He doesn’t know the specifics—”

“He does,” Harry said, interrupting Draco’s flow.

Draco frowned.

“Believe me, Draco, he does. He wasn’t talking about taming pets any more than I was— Well, at least not pets in the traditional sense.”

“I know what kind of pets you were talking about.”

Draco glowered darkly and Harry smirked.

“Oh?” he asked.

“The kind of pets Caleb likes,” Draco said, huffily. “I’ve done my reading, I’m not entirely stupid, you know.”

“Never said you were, you’re anything but stupid. You’re smart and gorgeous and sexy and sassy and wonderful and your Malcolm—”

Draco growled.

“He isn’t _my_ Malcolm!”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said and fought, with limited success, to suppress the urge to laugh.

Draco’s insistence that he and Malcolm were only friends was rather cute, though entirely unnecessary. Harry could tell that their relationship was strictly platonic and he wasn’t in the least bit worried about that ever changing. He’d never been a petty sort of a person and he didn’t intend to start now.

“Just to reiterate, not-your-Malcolm wasn’t talking about ordinary pets any more than I was. He knew exactly what I was talking about.”

“He’s not— He’s not into that sort of— Malcolm, he’s not like you.”

Harry sighed.

“Draco, first, calm down. Second, I’m not accusing Malcolm of being a closeted Slave Master and even if he is, good for him. I couldn’t tell you whether he is or he isn’t, but I can tell you, without the shred of a doubt, that he noticed my play on words and reacted appropriately,” he said calmly.

He circled his thumb over the back of Draco’s hand and gave him a moment to mull over his words, then smiled.

“I think it’s a _two_ _-pieces-of-chocolate-fudge-cake_ kind of day,” he said softly and continued to smile even when Draco frowned, then looked positively outraged at the suggestion and instantly protested quite vehemently.

“I’m not ordering two pieces of chocolate fudge cake!”

“No, you’re not. You’re ordering one and I’ll order the other and when you’ve finished yours, we’ll swap plates, just like we always do. It’s our thing, remember?” Harry smiled

Before Draco could object, he dragged him to the counter and ordered a filter coffee for himself, a flat white with an extra shot for Malcolm and a cappuccino for Draco. He also ordered two plates of chocolate fudge cake and then gave Draco a questioning look.

“I don’t know what Malcolm likes.”

“Fruit salad, no cream,” Draco told the barista and as he settled the bill, Harry informed her that they were sitting outside.

When they returned to the table, still holding hands, Malcolm greeted them with a big smile.

“All kissed and made up then?” he asked.

Draco smiled and Harry nodded.

“No kisses though, unfortunately,” Harry said.

When Draco leant sideways and planted a kiss on his cheek, he chuckled and squeezed Draco’s hand.

“There, here’s one. You can have more kisses later,” he said.

“Aww, that’s very gracious of you, my love.”

“Oh, stop it already, you two. Watching you is like a stab to the heart for any single man,” Malcolm said.

“If you’re interested, I’m sure Harry knows a few very obedient pets,” Draco said so nonchalantly that Harry didn’t quite manage to suppress a smirk or his subsequent need to laugh.

 _You are just full of surprises, sweet one,_ he thought.

Malcolm smiled, then motioned towards where Kona was still lying under his seat.

“While that sounds delightful, I’m happy with just the one,” he said.

A short while later a young waiter brought out their order and their conversation drifted towards more mundane topics.

They chatted about Malcolm’s job and his love of fitness and Draco divulged to Harry how much he had suffered when he and Malcolm had dated. Apparently, Malcolm hadn’t been above dragging him to a Muggle gym to work out and Harry was rather surprised that Draco had managed not to hex Malcolm for that.

He couldn’t help but grin deviously at the images in his head — Draco in Muggle sportswear, working up a sweat on the treadmill — and decided that if he ever got lucky enough to negotiate a D/s contract with Draco, he would most definitely insist on regular trips to the gym. For his own perverse pleasure and because he knew Draco would despise him just a little for pushing his boundaries like that. While Draco could always say no, Harry doubted Draco would veto such a clause. He had the distinct feeling that Draco would secretly enjoy it, though it would probably take hours of orgasm denial before he’d admit to it.

Harry deviously smiled into his coffee cup, then quietly took a few sips. There truly was something oddly arousing about imagining Draco, all sweaty from his exercise, kneeling at his feet, arms behind his back, eager to please him even as he was desperate to have a shower and refresh himself.

Since he could feel his body react to the fantasy, Harry resolutely pushed his kinky desires into a dark corner of his mind and as promised, when Draco finished his chocolate fudge cake, Harry swapped their plates and Draco ate his piece too.

Malcolm naturally made a wicked comment about love birds and the unfairness of being single and Draco reminded him that he wasn’t alone at all because he had Kona. Malcolm conceded that it was indeed true and the three of them spent a wonderful afternoon in the café, chatting and laughing about almost everything.

When Kona started to get restless, they took her for a walk in the park and when they arrived at a big clearing, she absolutely delighted in the fact that she had three handsome men doting over her, throwing her sticks, and chasing after her.

By early evening, they walked Malcolm to his car, waved their goodbyes and while he drove off, Harry took Draco’s hand and they strolled into the general direction of a suitable apparition point.

They walked in comfortable silence and when Draco reached for his arm and placed it around his shoulder, Harry decided that he would never have a reason to be jealous of Malcolm. He was a good friend and yes, he and Draco had been an item once but at the end of the day Draco wanted him; he wanted what they had.

He squeezed Draco’s shoulder and in response, Draco snuck his arm around his waist and they walked side by side with not an inch in-between to separate them.

A thought struck Harry, one that made him immensely proud of the person Draco had become.

He had changed so completely; gone was the teenager who’d spouted nonsense drilled into him by a narrow-minded man — Draco had well and truly grown into a fine young man and the realisation of that made Harry’s heart skip a beat, much like it always did when he took a moment to look at Draco.

At Hogwarts, Draco’s arrogance had been annoying, now it was endearing — it was a different kind arrogance now, it was an educated sort of egotism one couldn’t help but love. His sharply critical comments were smart and funny and his sass, well his sass was an absolute turn on and one Harry simply couldn’t get enough of. And then there was his levelheadedness and his elegance in the courtroom which was—

“Harry?” Draco asked, putting an abrupt end to Harry’s musings, much like he always did.

“Hm?”

“When I suggested to Malcolm to ask you to help him find a pet, did he turn me down because, well, because he’s not into— you know—”

“BDSM?” Harry offered.

Draco nodded.

Harry shrugged.

“Who knows. Maybe he is, maybe he isn’t. Maybe he has or wants a human pet, maybe Kona is the only pet he wants. If you really want to know if he’s into the lifestyle you can always ask him, I think you’re close enough to surprise him with that kind of question. I can’t tell from one conversation with the man, although I can tell you that he probably knows a good bit about it.”

“Isn’t that a bit of a weird question?”

“Maybe. But remember, you have dated and you are friends, from what you’ve told me, you’ve shared intimate stuff with him before. I think he’d understand; you can ask him; he won’t be offended, I’m quite sure of that.”

“What if he is into it?” Draco wanted to know.

Harry turned his head sideways to look at him.

“What if he is?”

“Wouldn’t that mean that he— I mean when we were dating, he never did anything like you, you know. He never just took control of me the way you do. Of course, when it came to Muggle stuff, I kind of just let him handle it, but that’s because I didn’t know how to do these things, not because I wanted him to dominate me.”

Harry smiled.

“Perhaps it was a bit of both on your part, unconsciously so or perhaps he realised you weren’t into it but liked you enough to be with you anyway,” he said and chuckled when Draco looked sceptical.

A frown creased his forehead and Harry wanted to smooth it out with a bunch of kisses.

He pulled them both to a stop, stepped in front of Draco and kissed him softly.

“Truth time. In the beginning, when we first started dating, well, I hadn’t planned to tell you either, you know?”

Draco’s eyes widened.

“You— You were going to build our relationship on a lie?”

Harry sighed.

“No, Draco. I just liked you enough that it didn’t matter to me. I didn’t pursue you because I wanted you on your knees at my feet. I pursued you because I genuinely like you and now, I love you. I fell for you so hard and so fast, I just wanted to be with you, no matter what. Whether you had an inclination for kink or not didn’t matter to me until I started to notice how receptive you were to me taking control and how much of a kick you seemed to get out of it, especially whenever I did it in the bedroom. That’s when I took the plunge and told you my deepest darkest secret. Not without freaking out first though, mind you. Feel free to ask Charlie and Caleb, they both had to listen to my whining for weeks. I was terrified and convinced I’d sent you running for the hills.”

Draco chuckled.

“The great Harry Potter has a weak spot.”

“I absolutely do. You are my weak spot, Draco Malfoy,” Harry whispered.

He wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist and hugged him tightly.

Draco leant in, coyly asked for a kiss and Harry gave it to him.

It was a gentle kiss at first, but soon enough he gave in to the temptation and deepened the kiss. Draco willingly parted his lips and Harry’s tongue disappeared into his mouth. He stroked it against Draco’s, relishing in the warm wetness of it and the lingering taste of chocolate fudge cake in inside his mouth. His hands moved to Draco’s buttocks and squeezing tightly, he felt Draco’s arms flail as he struggled to settle on a place for them.

Harry pulled away from the kiss, gazed deep into Draco’s eyes and smiled.

“Put your arms on my shoulders,” he said softly, his voice low and seductive.

Draco obeyed his instruction just like that, no hesitation, no questions.

Harry resumed the kiss, drew a little moan from Draco and swallowed it greedily.

He felt Draco’s fingers thread themselves through his hair and squeezed his buttocks in response.

They kissed without a care in the world and Harry was most grateful that they were alone.

Not that he really minded it when people watched him, but they were rather intimate and just a touch shy of indecent.

Harry grudgingly pulled away from the kiss and instead of squeezing Draco’s arse, he moved Draco’s arms to his hips and cupped his face.

“I want to take you home.”

“Then what?” Draco asked breathlessly.

Harry winked.

“That depends entirely on what you want…”

“I want you,” Draco said without hesitation.

“Hm, I know a good place where we can intimately discuss exactly how you want me.”

“Why do you always ask what I want?”

Draco pouted and Harry ran his thumb over Draco’s kiss-swollen lips.

“Should I not?” he asked quietly. “What if I wanted to tie you to my spanking bench and take a cane to you until you cried and begged me for mercy? Would you be okay with me doing that without asking your permission?”

He felt Draco shudder and watched him swallow hard. He looked fearful, nervous, and unsettled.

Harry smiled.

While he had no intention of taking a cane to Draco’s arse, at least not in the very near future, he thoroughly enjoyed teasing Draco and pushing his boundaries with the mere use of his words. He also liked to keep reminding him of how important consent was.

“I don’t think I would enjoy that very much,” Draco whispered, his face creased with deep worry lines. “In fact, I don’t think I’d enjoy that at all.”

“What if you weren’t meant to enjoy it? What if I just wanted to hurt you for my own pleasure? What if I all I wanted was to hear you scream and cry and beg me to stop?”

“Harry—”

Draco breathed and Harry could feel his tension. Instead of cupping his face, he wrapped his arms around Draco’s body and hugged him tightly.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it? You want to hear me scream and cry and beg. You want to hurt me,” Draco whispered.

At hearing those words, Harry was instantly surprised that he hadn’t pulled away yet, or worse tried to run.

“Draco, listen to me, I want what you want, always. I said it before and I’ll say it again. You decide how much you can take and how far we go, that’s how this works and that’s how it will always work,” he said quite firmly. “If you don’t want it, then I don’t want it, it’s that simple, it really is.”

Draco sighed.

“Be honest, Harry.”

The exasperation was evident in his voice and Harry wondered whether their current location was the perfect place for this conversation. He decided that it wasn’t.

“Let’s go home, we’ll talk there,” he said.

He closed his eyes, visualised his living room and they disapparated into the evening.

A moment later, they appeared exactly where he had wanted them to and walking Draco backwards to the sofa, he pushed him into the soft cushions and straddled his thighs. He looked at Draco, held his gaze, then leant in to capture his lips in a distractingly slow kiss.

He teased Draco’s lips, teased his tongue, and drew one tiny whimper after another from him.

Harry felt Draco grow hard against him and smiled into the kiss, then pulled away.

“I am honest, Draco, and I will always be honest with you about this. I want what you want. You make the rules; I just reinforce them. I will occasionally try and push your boundaries but never beyond anything I know you can take. Trust me, your safety is most important to me. Nothing you don't want to happen will ever happen to you.”

Draco opened his mouth but no words came out.

“Even if I wanted to cane you, even if I wanted to hurt you, I would never do that without your consent. With your consent it will be something we both enjoy, without it, you’re the prosecutor, you tell me where I’ll end up.”

“Azkaban,” Draco breathed.

They’d had that conversation before but Harry failed to see the harm in having it again. He’d happily repeatedly discuss the topic of consent, rules, and boundaries with Draco. What he wanted was a consensual relationship based on love and trust, not an abusive one.

“Exactly. And I have no desire to go there. So, remember this, my sweet little prince, everything we’ll ever do will be based on mutual consent. It doesn’t work any other way and it will never work any other way. Do you understand that?”

Draco nodded and Harry smiled.

“I want to hear you say it. I want to hear you say, _I understand, Sir_.”

“I understand, Sir,” Draco whispered.

“Such a good boy you are, I’d even go as far and say that you’re a good little pet, my good little pet,” Harry said.

He pressed a tender kiss to Draco’s lips and ran his fingers through his hair.

“I think you’ve earnt yourself a reward. What do you want?”

“I want to know what it’s like to be a good little pet.”

The words slipped past Draco’s lips and he instantly flushed crimson red.

Harry smirked and caressed Draco’s cheek.

“My sweet little prince, do you want to be my good little pet tonight? Do you want to please me?” he asked.

Draco nodded, then shyly averted his gaze.

“Yes, Sir,” he said.

He sounded a little breathless and Harry threaded his fingers into Draco’s hair, grabbed a handful of the silky soft strands and tugging Draco’s head back, he exposed his neck. He peppered Draco’s throat with tiny kisses, then licked his way to that sensitive spot just below Draco’s earlobe and sank his teeth into the soft flesh. He bit and sucked and Draco moaned loudly. Harry pulled away and soothed the love bite with the tip of his tongue.

“You should know, I take very good care of my pets, my little prince, and if my pet pleases me, I will reward it well,” Harry whispered.

“Please, let me, I want to please you,” Draco said.

Harry smiled at him.

“We haven’t even begun and you’re already such an eager little pet.”

Harry chuckled and continued to caress Draco’s cheek with his thumb.

“There’s no need to rush, sweet darling, we have all evening and all night. Let’s have some dinner first, shall we? I’m sure you’re hungry too.”

Draco moaned and Harry captured his open mouth in a possessive kiss. He forced his tongue into Draco’s mouth and stroked Draco’s tongue, coaxing it into action, wanting it to dance the tango with his own and just as Draco obeyed and kissed him back, Harry pulled away.

Draco groaned and stared at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.

“Dinner first, little prince. Will you be good and go out to buy us some? I’ll use the time to think of something fun for you to enjoy afterwards, I promise.”

“Harry—”

Draco gasped.

He looked positively displeased when Harry climbed off his thighs and the sofa.

“Be a good little prince and do as you’re told and then you get your reward,” Harry said. "Food first, then play."

He moved even further away from Draco, who stared at him for a few moments, blinked and finally managed to find just enough resolve to rearrange himself in his trousers and get to his feet. He walked somewhat unsteadily and his dazed expression made Harry want to pounce on him, but he merely crossed his arms over his chest and waited for Draco to calm himself enough to find the energy to go out to buy them something for dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do wonder what wicked thing Harry thought of now...
> 
> Oh well, stay tuned, I'll have a new chapter for you soon. Monday sound good for you?


	34. Pet Dragon, Please Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)  
>   
> 
> 
> The beauty of posting one chapter at a time is that I get to read over old chapters again, tweak them for the better and add or subtract stuff.
> 
> A fellow writer once told me, **_"write well, edit often."_** I always try to give it my best shot when I'm actually writing but going back over what I've created in a mad writing haze the day after, a week later or even a month or two later is actually a pleasure. I can play around with the sentences, add a bit here, take away a bit there. There have been a few chapters where my edits ended up doubling the initial word count but I have no regrets, absolutely none.
> 
> I remember a couple of things about the creation of this chapter (which I seldom do because I usually am in a bit of a writing haze while writing and forget the world around me), one of them being that K kept telling me to go to bed (and later on to go to the loo because I kept moaning that I needed to pee) but I just couldn't stop writing. I had to just pour it out all in one go and when I finally finished at 3am in the morning I was just so utterly relieved. I wasn't even exhausted, it just felt like the best sort of writing climax ever (since this story is full of smut and kink, think absolutely amazing orgasm for comparison)!
> 
> Another thing I remember is that this chapter made me hate the world "dildo" -- I couldn't stop misspelling it and it kept interrupting the flow of everything. Drove me right up the wall. Needless to say, K had proper laugh about the various mistakes I made with spelling the words and I think I remember saying that I wasn't going to use _the evil word_ ever again...
> 
> Last but not least, I remember my cat getting totally pissed off with me because I just kept writing and wouldn't turn off the lights. At some point, he quite defiantly stretched out over the keyboard and I will admit, I shamelessly plied him with cat treats and his favourite toy to get him off my back -- am I a bad mother?
> 
> Although I don't believe them to be a spoiler as such, I'm putting chapter specific notes at the end, this time. Keeping things fresh, people!

* * *

Harry moved his chair, leant back in it, his posture relaxed and informal, and laced his fingers together behind his head. He fixed his eyes on Draco and smiled. He watched Draco’s cheeks slowly pink, then turn crimson under his intense, scrutinising gaze. All the while, he kept his expression impassive, hiding his true feelings on purpose.

He knew Draco wanted to look away; his desire to break eye contact was strong and very much evident in the way his eyes would flicker away for barely a second, then settle back on him. He sat up straight, trying to exude confidence but it was an act — he kept shuffling and moving his feet, a clear sign of his nervousness and Harry decided to test his resolve. He wanted to push Draco’s boundaries and see how long it would take before he gave in to his inner battle of wills, surrendered and looked away.

Draco opened his mouth, intent on saying something, but Harry shook his head.

“Shush,” he whispered into the quiet of the kitchen.

Draco hesitated for half a second, then snapped his mouth shut and swallowed whatever he had been about to say. He pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and worried it with his teeth, gnawing on it.

Harry watched him but did nothing to discourage or calm the nervous energy that filled the room. He wanted Draco to get a feel for the unknown and deliberately allowed three long minutes to pass before he spoke again.

“Do you still want to please me, my little prince? Do you still want to be my good little pet?”

Draco whimpered, the sound of his voice quiet and gentle. He’d allowed his shoulders to slump forward a little and appeared pleasantly subdued, not as calm as Harry wanted him to be but he hoped to get him there sooner rather than later. There was an endearing sort of enthusiasm in his eyes — he still wanted to play and he wanted it badly.

“Say it,” Harry pushed. “Say you want to please me. Say you want to be my good little pet.”

“I—”

Draco started but had to pause to clear his throat, then spoke so quietly that Harry had to strain his ears to catch the words.

“I want to please you.”

He clicked his tongue and gave Draco a disapproving look. Draco being all sotto voce he could handle; Draco being lazy and not showing his respect by not addressing him properly he wasn’t going to tolerate.

“ _Who_ do you want to please, my little prince?”

A gentle reminder was all it took for Draco to correct himself.

“Sir,” Draco whispered. “I want to please you, Sir.”

“Now that sounds so much better. Say that again.”

Harry smiled.

Draco’s words were music to his ears.

“I want to please you, Sir. I want to be your good little pet, Sir.”

Draco complied with his request without the slightest hesitation and Harry let a few moments of silence pass between them before he spoke again.

“Do you really?”

Draco nodded with a kind of child-like zeal that made Harry grin. He could tell that Draco’s desire to please was there, he just didn’t know how to properly express it — yet.

To increase Draco’s anticipation and to make him fully aware of what was happening, Harry, who had an excellent view of the kitchen clock sat in silence for two full minutes. He watched Draco’s face carefully and checked for any sign that he wasn’t comfortable or wanted out — he found none.

“C’mere,” he said, his voice deep and husky, perhaps even a little smoky and smiled in a slightly mysterious way.

Harry hoped that the tone of his voice would make it impossible for Draco to resist his gentle invitation and pushing his chair backwards, he watched as Draco took his time to get up.

He took one, two, three tentative steps towards him, then stood there with his arms dangling at his sides. He shuffled from one foot to the other. A wave of nervous excitement rolled off him and Harry smiled.

“Very good, my little prince. Now prove to me how much you want to please me.”

“Harry—, Sir—, I—”

Draco spoke in a hushed whisper, his voice tremulous with nerves and mild anxiety, but Harry shook his head.

“No, Draco, _no words_ , you are very good at using them, too good. _Show me_ instead. Prove to me you want to please me. I want to see.”

Harry remained firm about what he wanted and watched. The hesitation was evident on Draco’s face. There was also mild confusion but apart from that Draco held himself with a certain kind of elegance that was truly admirable. There was nothing superior about him, he just looked beautiful, stunningly beautiful.

 _Kneel_ , Harry thought, _kneel,_ _my sweet little prince_ , but he didn’t say the words.

He wanted to mouth the order, wanted to tell Draco what he expected him to do, but he forced himself to remain quiet. He wanted Draco to do it out of his own volition, not because he was obeying an order — if Draco really wanted to please him tonight, he had to show him. Harry wanted Draco’s submission and he wanted it badly but he also knew how to keep himself under control. Not giving his desire to see Draco kneel for him away wasn’t exactly the easiest thing in the world but Harry had an iron will, or at least he thought he did.

A few moments passed, then Draco wordlessly moved his hands behind his back and sank to his knees in front of him. He did it with the refined grace of an angel. It was beautiful to watch and Harry’s breath caught in his throat. He refused to blink, he wanted to savour that moment forever.

Draco looked at him as he slowly sank to his knees, held his gaze with a strange sort of ease, and Harry wished he had a camera to capture the scene.

The way Draco bit the corner of his bottom lip was obscenely erotic and his coy smile made Harry want to jump him. He wanted to push Draco onto the kitchen floor, vanish his clothes and take him right there and then. He wanted to possess him, wanted to own him, wanted to mark him and keep him forever but he did none of that.

Instead, he praised Draco.

“Such a good pet you are, it pleases me to see you on your knees for me,” Harry whispered.

Draco’s cheeks pinked instantly.

Harry reached out to run his fingers through Draco’s hair and caressed his cheek tenderly with his thumb.

“Look at you, so beautiful, so stunningly beautiful, you take my breath away, my little prince,” Harry continued to praise and cupping Draco’s chin with his thumb and index finger, he gently forced it up and captured Draco’s lips in a sweet kiss.

Draco mewled and Harry combed his fingers through Draco’s hair again.

When he pulled away from the kiss, Draco gave him a coquettish smile, then cast his eyes downward to look at the floor.

“I want to please you, Sir,” he whispered.

A shudder went through Harry.

He inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly and repeated the action several times to get a hold on himself.

“Hmm, yes, I believe you do. And please me, you will, of that I’m sure,” Harry said.

He wordlessly summoned the key to the playroom from his bedroom. It flew into the kitchen and Harry caught it in his right hand with minimal effort.

 _Once a seeker, always a seeker,_ he thought with a smirk.

“Give me your right hand, pet,” he said, keeping the tone of his voice soft and gentle, yet authoritative enough for Draco to know he expected him to comply with his request.

Draco held his hand out, just as Harry had asked to. He did it without looking up.

 _Ngh, do you have to be so perfect?_ Harry mused.

He placed the key to his playroom in the palm of Draco’s hand and closed his fingers around it, just like he’d done countless times before.

“My sweet pet, I want you to go upstairs. I want you to take your clothes off and kneel by the door with your hands on your back. Face the room but keep your eyes on the floor. Will you do that for me, pet? Will you be my good little pet? Will you please me?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Draco’s voice quivered as he answered and as he went to get up, Harry placed a hand on Draco’s shoulder and firmly pushed him back down.

“Ask first,” he chided.

Draco swallowed.

“May I go upstairs, please, Sir?”

“Yes, you may.”

Harry removed his hand from Draco’s shoulder and sitting back and watched as Draco slowly and gracefully got to his feet. He left the room without making a sound and sitting forward, Harry reached for his half-finished glass of water.

He took a few sips of the cool liquid and tried to work out whether he really was about to give Draco his first real scene. He decided that he was and the anticipation of it made him shudder but he managed to get a handle on his excitement — for the most part anyway.

 _And pet play too_ , he thought with a chuckle.

“Draco Malfoy, you never cease to amaze, or surprise.”

He spoke into the now empty room not because he particularly enjoyed talking to himself but because the words sounded so much better spoken aloud than simply thought in his head. He rose to his feet and stretched to ease his stiff neck and back — he couldn’t help but wonder whether he might be able to persuade Draco to give him a massage.

Not tonight perhaps, but sometime soon.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, Harry decided to give Draco a little more time and cleared the table. Then he went into the pantry and searched for some sweets. After a short look around, he found a small bag of milk chocolate-coated biscuit balls and taking those with him, he made his way upstairs.

He took his time climbing the stairs up to the fourth floor and with each step he took, his anticipation grew. He wasn’t entirely sure whether Draco was ready for what they were about to do but he was determined to try his very best to guide Draco through it all and give him a memorable experience, one he wasn’t going to regret or be embarrassed about.

Once he reached the fourth-floor landing, Harry paused for a moment and took a deep breath.

 _Go slow_ , he reminded himself and forced his own nerves to take a backseat.

He didn’t need them to distract him. For Draco’s sake, he needed a cool head for this.

One more deep breath and he was ready.

He walked down the corridor to his playroom and found the door open.

Draco was exactly where he had told him to be and Harry took a moment to appreciate his beautiful pose. He was naked and kneeling on the floor by the door with his back to Harry and his head lowered submissively. His hands, loosely crossed at the wrists, rested on his lower back and he was sitting back on his haunches. He held the key to the room in his right hand and Harry decided to let him keep it, let it be his safety net. It was something Draco was familiar with and even though he had a safeword now, Harry didn’t want to take that away from him.

Harry quietly closed the door behind him and snapping his fingers, he dimmed the lights. A flick of his hand into the general direction of the stereo was all it took to fill the room with beautiful and evocative background music. Again, it was something Draco knew and Harry hoped it would help him relax further and that it would allow him to lose himself in the moment.

He took a step forward, gently placed his hand on Draco’s shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. He then stepped in front of Draco and easily dropped down onto one knee.

“Look at me, sweet pet,” he prompted.

Draco slowly lifted his head.

Harry gave him an encouraging smile.

“You look so beautiful, so very beautiful.”

Draco looked rather shy and averted his gaze, clearly embarrassed about the praise.

Harry chuckled.

He knew Draco liked to hear that he was beautiful and good but he also knew better than to force Draco to admit that he had a praise kink. He would eventually, of that Harry was sure. For now, though, he wanted Draco to simply enjoy the effects praise had on him — it seemed to make him so much more willing to submit and Harry wholeheartedly intended to use that little weakness to his advantage.

“No sweet pet, look at me, I want to see your beautiful eyes when I talk to you,” Harry whispered.

He placed a single finger underneath Draco’s chin, Harry lifted it and looked deep into Draco’s big wide grey eyes. He felt him swallow hard, saw him tremble with anticipation and nervousness and gave him a warm smile.

Opening the bag of sweets, he had brought with him, Harry placed a chocolate-coated biscuit ball between his teeth and leant in for a kiss. Draco responded and as he did, Harry pushed the sweet treat into his mouth and let him have it, then pulled back.

“Good little pets get treats, remember that, sweet one.”

He murmured the words against Draco’s quivering lips and kissed him again, then pulled away from him a little. He ran his fingers through Draco’s hair and then his thumb over his lips, first the bottom lip, then the top one. Draco’s lips were a delicious shade of red and glistened with saliva. They were also soft to the touch and Harry pressed his thumb against them, quite unwilling to stop enjoying the sensations.

“I want you to listen to my voice and focus on what I tell you, okay? If, at any point, you feel uncomfortable or you think you can’t go on, then use your safeword or let go of the key in your hand. I will stop immediately; you have my word. Do you understand that?” Harry said, holding Draco’s gaze.

Draco nodded in response.

Harry shook his head.

“No, pet, I’m afraid a nod is not good enough in here. I need to hear you _say_ it, I need to know you understand. It’s very important, Draco.”

“I understand, Sir,” Draco said in a hushed whisper.

Harry smiled and ran his fingers through Draco’s hair, then kissed him again.

“Good pet, you remembered,” he praised.

Draco flushed a little.

He tried looking away but Harry caught his chin before he could do so.

“Be a good little pet for me and stay right here,” he instructed, kissed Draco one last time and then rose to his feet.

He deliberately left the bag of sweets on the floor near Draco, in a place where he could see them, and moving across the room, Harry approached one of the cabinets, pulled the top drawer open and looking inside, he contemplated for a moment.

 _Plain back with a soft fur lining_ , he decided and picked up a light, smooth leather collar with a steel O-ring at the front.

The leather felt marvellous to the touch and Harry opened another drawer to pull out a matching leather leash. He left the leash on the red leather sofa and returning to Draco’s side, he crouched down in front of him and showed him the collar.

Draco’s eyes widened with clear apprehension and he shook his head, then opened his mouth to object but Harry swiftly placed a single finger across Draco’s lips and silenced him.

“Ssssh, pet, I just want your left hand,” he said softly.

Draco hesitated but eventually, he brought his left hand out from behind his back and offered it to Harry.

Harry took it and placed the collar in his hand.

“Feel it, my sweet pet, the leather is light and smooth and soft with fur lining,” Harry said and as he spoke, he moved Draco’s fingers over the collar, letting him touch every inch of it.

“You’d look so pretty with it snugly fastened around your neck, my little prince, and it would please me so much if you let me put this collar on you.”

Leaning in, Harry gave Draco a gentle kiss and swallowed the soft sigh that fell from Draco’s lips. He pulled away and caressed Draco’s check.

“Try it on for me, pet, please. If you absolutely don’t like it, you can tell me to take it off and I promise I will. Understand that I won’t force you to wear it if you hate it.”

“I’ll try it, Sir,” Draco whispered.

“Such a brave pet you are,” Harry praised, his smile broad and his eyes shining with love.

“Brave pets get treats, sweetheart.”

He reached for the bag of chocolate-coated biscuit balls and he offered Draco a sweet but held it just a little out of reach so that Draco had lean forward a little to get it.

“Good pet,” Harry praised. “Now, will you let me put this on you?”

Draco nodded and lowered his head in silent surrender.

 _Fucking perfect_ , Harry thought and gently placed the collar around Draco’s neck. He expertly fastened the clasp but knowing that Draco wasn’t familiar with wearing a collar, he deliberately left it loose. With the collar securely fastened around Draco’s neck, Harry gently cupped his chin and made him look up.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

Draco shrugged.

“OK, I guess.”

“Does it bother you?”

Draco shook his head.

“Do you want me to take it off again?”

Draco shook his head again.

“No, Sir, please, I’ll wear it for you.”

“Hm, you really do know how to please me, sweet pet.”

Harry smiled and offered Draco one more treat.

“Open up, pet,” he said.

When Draco opened his mouth, Harry placed the biscuit ball on the tip of Draco’s tongue and winked. He withdrew his hand and Draco closed his mouth and hummed as the chocolate melted in his mouth and he chewed on the biscuit.

“Let me have a taste, pet,” Harry said.

He hooked his finger into the O-ring at the front of Draco’s collar, pulled him closer, pressed his lips against Draco’s, and plunged his tongue into his mouth. He swept the tip of his tongue over Draco’s teeth and caressed and massaged his tongue, tasting Draco, tasting chocolate, and tasting biscuit. It was sweet and it was perfect.

“Such a sweet pet, I want to eat you right up.”

Harry whispered against Draco’s lips as he slowly withdrew from the kiss and unhooking his finger from the collar’s O-ring, he trailed it down Draco’s chest, teased around his navel, over his stomach and through the soft dusting of light curls at the base of his cock.

Draco’s breathing hitched and he licked his lips.

Keeping his eyes locked on Draco’s, Harry told him to spread his thighs just a little bit. Draco did and Harry ran a single finger along the length of Draco’s hard cock. It twitched under his touch and rubbing his finger around the sensitive head, he brought it up to his mouth and licked it off his finger, then hummed approvingly.

“That tastes even better,” he said with a smile and a wink, then slowly stood up.

Draco looked up at him with pleading eyes and Harry ran his fingers through Draco’s hair and massaged his scalp.

In response, Draco whimpered. His unspoken affirmation about how much he enjoyed Harry’s touch was soft and sweet, little bit like honey, really.

“Good pet,” Harry praised.

He did not remove his hand from Draco’s hair and took a moment to just look at Draco, collared and kneeling at his feet, expectantly looking up at him as though he had all the answers.

“You are absolutely perfect, my love,” Harry spoke softly, his voice low, warm, and gently.

“You’ve done really well so far; I’m going to make things a little harder for you. Are you ready for a little challenge, my pet?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Harry smiled.

“I’m going to go and sit on the sofa and I want you to come over to me,” Harry said and paused for effect. “It would please me ever so much if you crawled for me. I’d like to see you on your hands and knees, I’d like to watch you crawl over to me. Will you be a good pet and do that? Will you crawl for me, my love?”

Draco flushed crimson and opened his mouth.

Sensing that he was about to reject the request outright, Harry shushed him and combed his fingers through Draco’s hair to distract him and to ease his anxiety.

“It’s only embarrassing if you think about it, my little prince. There’s nobody here but me, you’re doing this for _me_ and _only_ me. It would please me so much if you made the effort to at least try. If you feel that you can’t do it, you may stop at any time and you may get to your feet and walk over to me.”

He continued to run his fingers through Draco’s hair and allowed him to remain focused on his touch.

Draco let out a breath of air.

After a while, he acquiesced with a small nod and Harry rewarded him with a kiss, then moved across the room and sat down on the sofa.

While sitting down, he summoned the sweet treats and placed them with the leash.

Draco hesitated for several moments, then he brought his right hand out from behind his back. He stared at the key in his hand and then looked at Harry, clearly unsure of what to do with it. Harry was about to give him a hint but before he could do so, Draco simply put the key between his teeth, elegantly fell forward onto his hands, moving onto all fours. His buttocks rose into the air and swayed from side to side as he slowly crawled across the room.

He did it with a kind of gracefulness that Harry had never seen before.

It was beautiful to watch and Harry’s breath caught in his throat for the second time that evening. He felt himself grow even harder if that was at all possible, and spreading his legs a little further apart, Harry squeezed his cock through his trousers and let out a soft moan.

He kept his eyes fixed on Draco and was pleased to note that Draco crawled all the way. He only stopped once he reached the sofa and taking the key back out of his mouth, he moved his hands to his lower back and sat back on his haunches. He lowered his head and Harry let out an appreciative low hum.

“Look at me, pet,” Harry rasped and Draco did.

“You did so well, that was perfect, you were perfect. That was beautiful to watch, my little prince,” he said with a smile.

Harry sat forward and reaching for the bag of sweet treats, he offered it to Draco.

“You’re a good little pet, have your treat.”

Draco opened his mouth and Harry placed two chocolate-coated biscuit balls in his mouth. He watched Draco enjoy his treat and while he did, Harry undid his trousers and pulled the zipper down. He reached inside and freeing his throbbing cock, he hissed as the cool air caressed the sensitive tip. Keeping his eyes fixed on Draco, he leisurely stroked himself and smirked. Draco’s eyes darkened with lust and desire and he licked his lips. Harry knew exactly what he wanted and he had every intention of letting Draco have it — though not without twisting his mind a little further first.

“Look at what you did to me, my sweet gorgeous pet. Seeing you like this, naked, on your knees, wearing my collar and crawling for me. Give me your hand, feel how hard you’ve made me,” he said.

When Draco gave him his left hand, Harry wrapped it around his cock and groaned when Draco stroked him gently and gave him a shy look. Harry leant forward and kissed him.

“You’re not normally this shy, pet, but it’s beautiful. I love seeing you like this. Tell me, do you want it? Do you want to suck my cock?”

Draco mewled and his hand tightened around Harry’s cock.

“Yes, Sir,” he said breathlessly.

“Ask me.”

Harry thrust up into Draco’s hand.

“Please, Sir, please may I suck your cock?”

“ _Ngh_ , yes, pet, yes you may. Put those sweet pretty red lips around my cock and show me how good you can be, show me how much you want to please me.”

Harry didn’t have to tell him twice; Draco moved forward and eagerly sucked his cock into his mouth. Harry wound his right hand into Draco’s hair and with his left hand, he reached for the leash. With one swift motion, he attached it to the O-ring at the front of Draco’s collar and wrapping the leash around his left hand, he tugged a little.

“Take a little more, pet,” he said.

He let out a low moan when Draco did just that.

“Yes, that’s it, pet, _ngh_ , yes that’s good, suck it, make me come,” he mumbled.

He kept Draco’s head in place, thrust his hips up and forced Draco to take him a little deeper still. Draco gagged a little but adjusted quickly. He took Harry deeper and sucked harder still. He sucked with enthusiasm and made no secret out of the fact that he enjoyed having Harry’s cock in his mouth, enjoyed giving head, enjoyed a chance to show off his skills.

Leaning back, Harry slid his hips forward and spread his legs a little further. Draco shuffled closer and brought his right hand up to rest on Harry’s thigh.

For a moment, Harry contemplated telling Draco off, but then he let it slip and instead decided to enjoy the blowjob Draco was giving him.

It was exquisite and delicious.

Draco knew exactly what to do.

He knew where his tongue should be and how to bob his head and he didn’t shy away from changing his angle to take Harry deeper. He kept his left hand wrapped around the base of his cock and stroked up and down in time with his sucks. Harry pulled on Draco’s hair and gently forced him to take more.

Every so often, he held him down for a few seconds at a time but always released his hold before Draco struggled to breathe and tugged on Draco’s collar instead.

“Fuck yes, you’re so good, you really are my good little pet,” he praised breathlessly.

When Draco attempted to take even more of him, he let out a low groan. The warm wetness around his cock and the indecent sounds Draco made as he sucked were perfect. It was all a little too much for Harry and groaning loudly, he let his head fall back and felt the muscles in his abdomen start to clench.

A warm tightness filled his belly and insistently spread down and through his groin. His balls tightened and Harry felt a little light-headed as his cock hardened just that little bit more. Images of spurting his come into Draco’s awaiting mouth and all over his face filled Harry’s mind and he moaned but resisted the temptation to do that to Draco.

 _Not tonight,_ he told himself and thrust into Draco’s hot, wet mouth. Draco took him just that little bit deeper and Harry fought hard; he didn’t want to hold back. He wanted to spurt thick ropes of his come into Draco’s mouth and he wanted him to swallow it all, but despite his strong desire to do so he forced himself to hold back just a little longer.

“Do not come, pet,” he rasped, seconds away from his orgasm.

“You do not have my permission to come, pet, not just yet anyway, and if you do, I will punish you,” he promised Draco.

When Draco hummed around his cock, Harry wasn’t quite sure whether he was telling him that he understood or urging him to come but right this second, he didn’t care either way. The sensations of Draco’s warm wet mouth and his skilled tongue along with the vibrations of his humming were decidedly too much to take.

His orgasm tore through him with such intensity that his lungs burned in his chest as he struggled to fill them with enough oxygen. For a moment, he saw stars and his heart pounded in his chest, then an incredible burning sensation started in the pit of his stomach. His muscles clenched and he groaned loudly, unashamedly. His cock exploded inside Draco’s mouth and filled him with his come as he recalled the memory of Draco crawling across the room on all fours. He felt Draco swallow around his cock and smiled through the haze of his orgasm.

Harry ran his fingers through Draco’s hair and petted him. Draco sucked gently and cleaned him thoroughly before he slowly pulled back and let Harry’s softening cock fall from his red, swollen lips. Harry forced himself to sit up a little and blinking several times, he let go of Draco’s hair and brought his hand up to his right his glasses. They were askew and had almost slipped off his nose.

“Such a good pet,” he whispered and caressed Draco’s cheek with a content smile. “Did you come?”

“No, Sir.”

Draco shook his head. His voice sounded rough and husky as he spoke.

“I was good, Sir.”

“Very good, I do like a good obedient pet that knows how to obey me. Tell me, sweet pet, would you like a reward?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Draco nodded and Harry offered him a chocolate-coated biscuit ball.

“I bet that tastes good mixed with my come, doesn’t it, my sweet prince?”

Draco nodded again and admitting that made him flush a deep shade of red.

“So sweet you are,” Harry smiled. “Tell me, pet, will you do something else for me?”

“What do you want me to do, Sir?”

“Something that’s pleasing to the eye.”

Harry winked.

He summoned one of the black shaggy rugs that lay on the floor beside the bed and positioned it behind Draco, then gently pried the key to the room from Draco’s hand. Harry magically attached it to the collar around Draco’s neck — a simple spell was all it took and Draco looked rather beautiful with the golden key hanging from the O-ring of his collar.

“If you want to stop, you can either touch the key or use your safeword,” Harry said.

When Draco opened his mouth to say something, he silenced him by placing his finger across his lips. “Hush now, good pets don’t speak. Besides, for what I have in mind, you need both your hands.”

Harry smiled and Draco nodded in silent understanding. Harry briefly let go of the leash, he had attached to Draco’s collar earlier, and tucking himself back into his trousers, he did the zipper up and slipped the button through the hole.

“Lie back, pet. Lie back on that soft shaggy rug behind you. I want you to lie on your back, bend your legs at the knees, then spread your legs as far as they’ll go, I want to see you, all of you,” Harry said.

Draco followed his instructions down to a T and Harry couldn’t help but admire him for his obedience. There was no doubt in his mind that Draco really wanted this and that he was enjoying himself a lot. It pleased Harry so much to know that. It also turned him on quite a lot.

As Draco lay back, Harry moved to the edge of the sofa and reached for the leash. He tugged on it gently and watched as Draco followed it with his eyes. He blinked several times but did not object.

Instead, he spread his legs that little bit further and exposed himself completely to Harry, who inhaled sharply and thoroughly enjoyed the view.

Draco was still hard and his cock stood up proudly. It twitched a little and Harry licked his lips. He let his eyes glide over Draco’s balls and down to Draco’s arse.

“Spread yourself open for me, pet, I want to see that tight little hole of yours,” Harry whispered.

Draco gave a low moan as he pulled his buttocks apart and spread himself open, showing Harry his hole, showing him his most private part.

“Beautiful, so beautiful.”

Harry smiled.

“Tell me, pet, do you want to come?”

Draco moaned.

“Yes, Sir.”

“How badly do you want to come, pet?”

“Very badly, Sir, please may I come?”

Harry regarded Draco for a while, then he shook his head.

“Not yet, pet, first I want to see you play with yourself. Will you do that for me? Will you let me watch as you pleasure yourself?”

“ _Ngh_!”

Draco groaned.

“Yes, Sir, yes, yes, yes,” he breathed and rolled his hips.

Harry tugged on the leash.

“Be still, I like a patient pet,” he chided.

Harry summoned a phial of lube, caught it in mid-air and levitated it over to Draco, allowing him to reach for it.

“Do you want a toy?” Harry asked. “Good pets like you do like to play with a toy, isn’t that so?”

When Draco keened and tightened his hold on the phial of lube in his hand, he grinned.

“Hm, yes, I think I’ll give you a toy,” Harry nodded.

“It’ll be so much fun watching you fuck yourself with a charmed dildo that will hit your prostate every time you shove it inside yourself,” he said rather nonchalantly and releasing Draco’s leash from his grasp, he got off the sofa and walked over to another cabinet, one filled with an almost endless assortment of dildos, vibrators, butt plugs and anal beads, charmed and uncharmed, of course.

After some careful consideration, he chose a simple black silicone dildo that was roughly the same size in length and girth as his own cock. There was no charm on it to ensure that it hit Draco’s prostate every time he shoved it into himself but Draco did not need to know that.

He returned to the sofa, summoned his end of Draco’s leash into his hand and handed Draco the dildo. Draco took it without hesitation and Harry sat on the sofa.

“Just pretend I’m not here if it helps.”

He chuckled and sat back to enjoy the show with a devious glint in his eyes.

When Draco hesitated for too long, Harry tugged on the leash and that seemed to push him into action. He placed the dildo down beside him and uncorking the phial of lube, he spread some onto both his hands, warmed it slightly and wrapped his right hand around his cock. He stroked himself leisurely, teasingly, and let out a low moan as he did so.

“Beautiful,” Harry praised. “Stroke a little faster, pet.”

Draco tightened his hand around his cock and sped up his strokes. His other hand moved to his balls and he fondled them in the palm of his hand, squeezed them gently and finally rubbed a single finger over the sensitive skin just behind his balls. His finger edged closer to his hole but Harry clicked his tongue and pulled on the leash.

That was enough to stop Draco from going any further.

He turned his attention back to his cock and stroking himself a little faster still, he continued to caress his balls too and his breathing slowly became ragged. A delicious small moan fell from his lips and pulling his bottom lip back into his mouth, he thrust into his own hand.

Harry watched him closely.

He paid attention to every little detail.

Draco’s breathing and the way he moved, his moans, which became lower in sound and more urgent and the ever-changing expression on his face — he’d closed his eyes and wore a mask of pure ecstatic joy. His hand flew over his cock and he panted as he let Harry watch how he pleasured himself. He thrust his hips up and when his name repeatedly fell from Draco’s mouth, Harry felt his cock stir again. He allowed Draco to bring himself right to the edge of his orgasm and then he deviously ruined it.

“Stop,” he said brusquely.

He gave Draco’s leash a firm tug, one that was harsh enough for it to feel like the collar had tightened around Draco’s neck — though most definitely not harsh enough to choke him in any way — and since he hadn’t expected that, Draco froze.

His entire body shook as hung on the edge, seconds away from his orgasm.

He groaned in frustration and tried to thrust into his hand, but Harry simply held his hand out and muttered a spell that made that quite impossible.

It was a very useful variation of the Full-Body-Bind-Course, one that allowed him to only freeze a certain limb. For the duration of the spell, Draco had no control over his hand.

“ _Ngh_ , Harry—”

Draco groaned in protest and Harry chuckled.

“Not so fast, my sweet pet, I want to enjoy the show,” he said.

When he was sure that Draco was no longer hovering on the edge of exploding all over himself, Harry waved his hand and ended the spell.

“Use the toy, pet, I want to see you fuck yourself with that toy.”

Draco made a sound that was entirely indescribable.

It wasn’t a groan and it wasn’t a moan; it wasn’t even a whimper or a panted breath but somehow it was all of that together and somehow it wasn’t.

It was a strange sound but to Harry’s ears, it sounded beautiful.

He watched as Draco poured more lube onto his hand and using his left hand to pull his left buttock away, he moved his lubricated fingers to his hole. He teased around his hole and Harry watched as the tight ring of muscle responded to the touch.

It fluttered and clenched and unclenched and Draco rubbed his index finger over his hole and let out a low whimper — he wanted more, that much was obvious.

“Push it in,” Harry said.

Draco breached his own hole and pushed his finger in right up to the first knuckle.

He groaned and Harry smiled.

“More, push it all the way in, pet,” Harry said.

Draco obediently pushed his finger all the way into his tight hole, slickening it himself up and groaned at the intrusion.

“Fuck yourself with your finger.”

Harry watched with rapt attention as Draco pulled his finger out and then thrust it back inside. He repeated the action and soon enough his hips started moving in unison with his thrusts. Draco groaned and an incoherent plea left his lips.

“One more,” Harry said quietly.

Once again, Draco obeyed him beautifully and slowly pushed two fingers into him. He hissed at the slight burn and paused for a moment to adjust, then pulled his fingers out only to shove them right back in. He fucked himself, moved his hips to increase the intensity of his thrusts.

His other hand went to his cock but Harry clicked his tongue.

“No pet, I didn’t tell you that you could touch your cock. Just your fingers, find your prostate, let me hear what it feels like when you play with your own prostate,” Harry ordered.

Draco groaned but complied with the command nonetheless. He adjusted the angle of his fingers and after managing to find his prostate, he began to stimulate it slowly. He rubbed against it, jerked his hips up, groaned Harry’s name and his free hand found the dildo. His fingers closed around the shaft and he squeezed hard.

“Do you want that, my sweet little pet? Do you want that toy inside you, my love?” Harry asked.

“Yes, Sir, _please_.”

“Go on,” Harry smiled.

He watched as Draco withdrew his fingers and coated the dildo with plenty of lube, then pressed the tip against his hole and pushed. At first, the tight muscles around his hole clenched and refused, then they slowly loosened and Draco pushed the head of the dildo inside himself. He groaned and breathed and Harry knew that it burned and that it was uncomfortable. That dildo was stretching Draco quite nicely and Harry absolutely loved the sight of it.

“Breathe,” Harry said.

Draco took a few deep breaths, then slowly pushed the dildo deeper.

“Good pet, you’re doing so well, I love to watch you take that toy into your tight hole. I love to watch you play with yourself. Tell me, does it feel good? I bet it feels good.”

“Yes,” Draco replied shakily.

Harry clicked his tongue.

“ _Sir_. Yes, Sir.”

Draco instantly corrected himself and pushed the dildo a little deeper still.

“Go on, stretch yourself for me, take all of it, push it all the way in,” Harry said.

He watched as Draco did just that and felt his cock twitch inside his trousers. Draco filled himself with the dildo and watching it slowly disappear inside of him was all it took for Harry to grow fully hard again. He palmed himself through his trousers and groaned.

“Fuck, Draco, you’re so fucking hot,” he whispered.

He watched as Draco slowly withdrew the dildo and then thrust it back inside.

“Sir, please, I want to touch myself.”

Harry rejected his request.

“Not yet.”

“First show me how my good little pet fucks himself with his toy. I want to see you play with yourself properly. I want to hear you moan as you pleasure yourself, show me what you do when I’m not there to fuck you.”

Draco made that strange sound again and tightened his hold on the dildo but his hands and the toy were so slick with lube that he struggled to grip it properly. That didn’t discourage him though and after a few failed attempts, he found a way and started to fuck himself in earnest. He found his prostate with it and arched his back off the rug, groaned loudly and Harry watched him slowly lose himself in the sensations. His cock twitched excitedly and Harry knew that he was dying to touch himself but he also knew how very close Draco was and he had no intention to let Draco come from a handjob and a dildo.

That didn’t stop him from enjoying the show though and he positively delighted in the sounds Draco made as he fucked himself. He was writhing on the rug, shamelessly impaling himself on the dildo while he shoved it as deep up his arse as he could and each time it brushed against his prostate he keened and groaned. It didn’t take long for him to reach the brink of yet another orgasm and when he did, Harry summoned the toy straight out of his hand.

Draco screamed in frustration and howled.

“No, please, Sir.”

He sobbed as he tethered on the very edge of his orgasm.

His body trembled and he struggled to get enough air into his lungs and Harry loved every second of watching Draco thrash about on rug, unable to reach the finishing line and unable to completely come down from his high.

Harry stood and undoing his trousers, he pushed them to his knees and let them drop to his ankles. He stepped out of them, took his boxers off, and discarded both garments haphazardly. He sat down and tugged on Draco’s leash.

“C’mere pet,” he whispered.

For a moment, Draco struggled to move onto all fours. His limbs were shaking but after a few attempts, he managed to slowly crawl over to the sofa and kneel between Harry’s spread legs.

“Into my lap, pet,” Harry said.

He summoned that phial of lube and coated his own cock with it.

“Unless you’d rather finish with the dildo…?” he asked.

Draco pulled such a disgruntled face that Harry couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Come on up, into my lap,” Harry repeated.

Draco used Harry’s thigh for leverage as he pulled himself up and climbed into his lap. He straddled Harry’s legs and Harry grabbed the base of his cock, then helped Draco impale himself on his cock. Draco slowly sank down onto Harry’s cock and Harry groaned at the tight velvety heat that engulfed his slick prick.

“Still so unbelievable tight, my sweet pet, you feel wonderful, absolutely wonderful,” Harry praised.

Draco made a sweet, sweet sound that went straight to Harry’s cock and made it twitch deep inside Draco. He instructed Draco to place his hands behind his back and used the leather leash to expertly bind Draco’s wrists behind his back, then, with his hands now free, Harry placed them on Draco’s hips and guided him, showing him to slowly lift himself up.

Draco took the hint and flexing his thigh muscles, he started to fuck himself on Harry’s cock, rolling his hips each time that he sank back down and clenching around Harry as he lifted himself up. He groaned, threw his head back and Harry wrapped one hand around Draco’s cock and gave it a few teasing strokes.

“Faster, pet,” he said.

Draco tried his best to move faster. Harry helped him along and thrust his hips up, meeting him halfway on each thrust.

“Yes, that’s it, my sweet little pet, so good, you’re so good at this,” Harry encouraged him.

Draco let out a low groan — he was so far gone that his desire to blush at hearing Harry’s praise had seemingly vanished into thin air.

Harry adjusted the angle of his thrusts and brushed against Draco’s prostate, pulling yet another loud groan from him.

He brought Draco closer and closer to the edge, then squeezed the base of Draco’s cock.

“Don’t you dare, not without my permission,” he growled.

He wrapped his arms tightly around Draco’s hips, moved off the sofa and placed him on his back on the rug. He didn’t give Draco any chance to adjust to the new position but instead pounded into him, setting a fast and unforgiving rhythm. He teased Draco’s prostate and his cock and brought him to the edge once more but did not grant him any release just yet.

“Do you want to come, pet?”

“Yes.”

Draco sobbed, the desperation evident in his voice and Harry sank his teeth into his neck, just above his collar and bit hard.

“Then beg for it, be a good pet and beg me for your orgasm. Let me hear how much you really want to come.”

“ _Ngh_ , please, Harry, please, please, I need to come, please, please, please.”

Draco begged shamelessly and Harry snapped his hips forward and buried himself deep inside Draco. He could feel his own orgasm starting somewhere in the low in his groin and he was most definitely tethering on the edge himself but he knew he could hold out a bit longer.

Draco on the other hand…

“Such a desperate little pet. Beg a little more and I’ll think about it,” he whispered.

Draco groaned and almost choked on his own spit as he tried to get the words out.

“Please, let me come, Harry, please, please, please.”

He panted and sounded so desperate that Harry decided he had tormented him enough for one evening. He pulled back and changing the angle of his thrusts, he filled Draco with his entire length, then roughly stroked his cock and circled the sensitive head.

Draco writhed beneath him, he groaned and let out a low desperate moan. A few choked sobs escaped with it and an incessant scream of pleas fell from his lips.

“Come for me, my sweet little pet,” Harry murmured.

He thrust into Draco and stimulated his already highly-sensitive prostate thoroughly on that one inward thrust. He felt Draco tighten around him and felt his cock twitch in his fist. Draco’s entire body convulsed beneath him. He twisted and panted and groaned and sobbed as Harry’s words wrenched his release from him and he came hard, spurting rope after rope of hot come all over himself and Harry’s hand.

He tightened around Harry’s cock and all that; the sounds he made, the way he moved, the way his body reacted to the intensity of his own orgasm, well, it was enough to draw Harry over the edge for the second time that night and he emptied himself inside Draco, groaned and slumped on top of the trembling wreck he had reduced Draco to.

He allowed himself a few moments to ride out his second orgasm, then forcefully shoved his own tiredness away and moved off Draco. Not focused enough to undo Draco’s wrist restraints by hand, he mumbled a spell to undo them and gingerly clambering to his feet, he gently picked Draco up off the floor and carried him over to the bed where he eased him onto it and leant down to press a kiss against Draco’s sweaty forehead.

Draco stretched against the cool satin sheets and moaned softly and contently. His had closed his eyes and had a dazed sort of expression on his face.

Rounding the bed, Harry moved to lie beside him and pulled him into his arms. Draco immediately curled into his embrace and buried his face in Harry’s chest.

Harry vanished his own shirt and allowed Draco the skin on skin contact he knew would help ground him, then followed up with a gentle cleaning spell which he cast over them both. He ran his fingers through Draco’s damp hair and summoned a blanket to cover him with but made sure to inspect his wrists. He was pleased to find them only slightly reddened and entirely free from damage; he was quite sure that the marks would be gone by morning. Reassured, he kissed Draco’s wrists gently and when Draco rolled onto his back, blinked, and stared up at him, he smiled and kissed the tip of Draco’s nose.

Draco chuckled quietly and scrunched up his face.

“You were a wonderful pet, my love, absolutely amazing. You did everything I asked you to and you did it so well, you were perfect,” he whispered, caressed Draco’s cheeks, and captured his lips in a slow, sensual kiss.

“There, that’s a much better treat than chocolate will ever be,” he smiled.

When Draco frowned, he chuckled.

He knew exactly what Draco wanted to say and was oddly pleased that he was still too out of it to speak his mind.

“Yes, I know, kisses and chocolate are the best treats, one isn’t better than the other, I’m sorry.”

Draco nodded and Harry laughed.

He removed the key from the O-ring of Draco’s collar and sent it flying towards the door, then he disconnected the leash and tossed it onto the ground beside the bed. He was about to unclasp the collar when Draco wriggled in mild protest.

Harry paused, raised a questioning eyebrow, and Draco flushed a little.

“Can I keep this a little longer?” he asked shyly.

Harry smiled warmly. He kissed Draco tenderly and stroked his hair.

“You can keep this as long as you like, my little prince, it’s yours.”

“What about me? Am I yours?”

Draco sought reassurance and Harry kissed him again.

“Of course. You are mine, for as long as you want to be. You are my Draco, my little prince, my gorgeous dragon pet.”

Harry chuckled and pressed a kiss to Draco’s frown-creased forehead.

“Tell me, pet, do you spew fire?” he teased.

Draco pretended to glower at him but since he was still floating in blissful post-orgasmic bliss it wasn’t quite as effective.

“Only in the courtroom,” he said.

Harry laughed heartily.

“Hmm, yes that’s right,” he nodded.

He ran his fingers through Draco’s hair and his thumb across over his still-flushed cheek.

“Have you changed your mind about pets then?” he asked curiously. “At the munch, you were rather adamant that it wasn’t something you wanted.”

“Are you going to make me eat from the floor?”

“Not unless you want to. But I might get you a butt plug with a fake dragon tail.”

“You want me to walk around with a tail sticking out of my arse?”

Draco frowned but Harry could tell that his mild outrage was just a show.

The cheeky twinkle in his eyes was an obvious giveaway.

“Ideally, I’d want you to fly with that tail sticking out of your arse because that’s what dragons do, but I don’t think we’ll manage to conjure a pair of working wings and stick them onto your back. I’ll settle for making your mind fly instead.”

Harry chuckled.

“I could always ride your Firebolt.”

Draco grinned and snuggled a little closer to Harry.

“Is that a euphemism for something?”

“You just had two orgasms; don’t you ever stop thinking about sex?”

Draco groaned and Harry laughed.

“Not when I have a hot dragon in my arms, definitely not then. But if you keep being this cheeky, you’re in for a spanking.”

Draco pulled away and frowned. Harry ran his thumb over his forehead and smoothed out the creases.

“I thought we were finished playing,” he said, sounding a little unsure.

Harry pulled him into his arms.

“Hmm, yes we are, but if you misbehave, I’ll still want to punish you.”

“I guess I’ll just sleep then.”

“With that collar on?” Harry asked.

Draco angled his head to get a better look at him. He flushed a little and the look in his eyes said it all.

Harry didn’t need to hear him say the actual words to know that despite his initial apprehension, he now really wanted to keep that collar. His chest filled with pride and he captured Draco’s lips in a passionate kiss that left them both a little breathless.

A part of him wanted to hear Draco say the words, wanted to hear Draco ask him _May I please keep the collar, Sir?_ but he didn’t push the issue.

“Tell you what, my little prince, we’ll cuddle a bit more and you can keep wearing it. You’ll have to take it off before we hop in the shower though, the fur lining doesn’t respond well to water and soap. How is that? Is that an acceptable deal?”

Draco nodded.

“Yes, Sir, thank you.”

“Such a polite little prince, I really am blessed and pleased, truly pleased.”

Harry smiled and kissing Draco again, he ran his fingers through Draco’s hair and massaged his scalp.

“I’ve another deal for you, let’s see how you feel about that one. You can keep this collar indefinitely. I won’t take it off you, and you can wear it whenever you feel like it. But I want two things in return—”

“What two things?”

“First, promise me to never wear it to bed. This one is a bit wide to wear in bed and it will get uncomfortable if you leave it on the whole night. If you ever want to sleep in one, I can give you one that’s better suited,” Harry said and tried very hard not to think about putting an eternity collar around Draco’s neck.

It was a little early for those sorts of thoughts but he couldn’t quite stop himself from indulging in a little fantasy. Maybe someday.

“I can promise you that,” Draco nodded. “What’s the second thing you want?”

“I’m going to put a charm on it that’ll tell me when you put it on. If you’re ever feeling submissive when I’m not around, I’ll want to know so I can give you a treat when we’re together,” Harry smiled. “Neglecting your needs would make me a very bad Dom indeed.”

Draco frowned a little, hesitated for a few moments, but eventually, he nodded and Harry decided to push the boundaries a little.

“One more thing—” he said.

When Draco immediately tried to protest, he shushed him.

“Listen first, then object, same as in your courtroom really,” he said.

“You may put the collar on whenever you want but if you put it on when you’re around me, say when we’re in your flat or here in my house, then I expect you to kneel for me. I won’t make any other demands from you without discussing them with you first but when you’re wearing that collar, I’d very much like to see you on your knees for me. Do you think that’s something you’re comfortable doing?”

Harry felt Draco shudder in his arms and pulling him closer against his body, he threw one leg over him, held him tightly, and paid close attention to the expression on Draco’s face. He looked unsure and slightly apprehensive but not completely put off. Harry took that as a good sign and decided to explain more.

“It’ll be your way of telling me that you’d like to surrender, a little sign that you’d like me to take control for a while, look after you, take care of you, make you feel good,” Harry whispered and rubbing Draco’s back, he kissed his forehead, his nose, and his lips.

“It’s your choice, Draco. I won’t lie, I would like this to happen, but it’s entirely up to you, you can say no. In fact, if you’re saying yes just to please me, I’ll know and I won’t accept it.”

“Can I think about it for a while? Just the last thing you asked, please.”

Draco looked a little sheepish and Harry gave him a kiss.

“Of course. You can take as much time as you want to think about it. The collar is yours, wear it whenever you want, or just told it in your hands, touch it, feel it, whatever makes you happy,” he smiled and hooking his finger into the O-ring, he mumbled the incantation to a devised tracking charm.

Once Draco put the collar on when he wasn’t around, the charm would activate and Harry would know.

“You have a wicked way of making me want to surrender to you, Harry Potter.”

Draco let out a tiny little sigh and buried his face in Harry’s chest. Harry pulled him an impossible inch closer and sensing that it gave Draco comfort, he let him hide away.

“You have a wicked way of making me want to dominate you, Draco Malfoy,” he replied.

“Is this how we’re going to say _I love you_ to each other from now on?”

Draco’s words were somewhat muffled because he was talking into Harry’s chest.

Harry laughed but inwardly he felt overcome with giddiness.

To hear Draco to compare his own desire to submit to him and Harry’s desire to dominate him to them exchanging _I love you’s_ , was quite something.

Feeling a little emotional, Harry kissed the top of Draco’s head.

“I love you,” he whispered.

He both felt and heard Draco whisper the same three words against his chest.

They seeped through his skin and right into his heart, which first skipped a beat, then beat a hell of a lot faster, sending little thrills of excitement through him.

Harry closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. The air immediately surrounding him smelled of sex and sweat but it also smelled of Draco, a rather pleasant citrusy scent, Harry liked a lot.

They lay in perfect silence for a while and Harry allowed himself to drift a little. He didn’t sleep and didn’t think of anything special, but enjoyed the closeness between him and Draco; it wasn’t only physical closeness but they also shared a very strong emotional connection. Harry couldn’t help but think that their bond had deepened just a little, had brought them a little closer together and he fervently hoped that they would continue working towards strengthening the relationship between them.

It had only been a couple of months but it had been an incredibly good couple of months and Harry wanted more, so much more. He wanted all of Draco, he wanted them to last and to somehow try and make a life together. His thoughts sounded mawkish, even in his own head, and he couldn’t imagine saying them aloud, at least not now, but he also couldn’t summon the necessary willpower to stop himself from being utterly corny. He decided that occasionally it was perfectly OK to be ridiculously sentimental.

“Harry?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

Harry turned his full attention back to Draco, who’d pulled back a little and was smiling at him. His silvery-grey eyes sparkled with joy and he looked happy and relaxed; everything Harry wanted him to be, preferably always but especially after what they’d just experienced together.

“For what?”

“For tonight, it was incredible. I really enjoyed it and I hope that we can do it again sometime.”

“As long as it’s what you want, we absolutely can,” Harry said. “Remember, you make the rules, I’m just a willing participant.”

“I remember.”

Draco smiled, then looked a bit coquettish and something fiercely possessive instantly flared to life inside Harry.

“Can I have a kiss?”

“You can have as many kisses as you want, always, my sweet little prince.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I'm sure that you may have some idea of what "Pet Play" is, I would still like take the opportunity to cite a ["passage"](https://limitsunleashed.com/2017/01/05/pet-play/) from the website Limits Unleashed to explain things in a little more detail:
> 
>  
> 
> _"Pet play is a style of role-play which typically involves one or more players adopting roles as animals which are domesticated pets such as bunnies, puppies, kittens, and such. Note that it is common, but not to the exclusion of such, for pet players to be younger versions of the chosen animal (i.e. a kitten versus a mature cat). Typically the Dominant is the Owner of the pet and the submissive is the one who adopts the animal like characteristics. In this way, pet play can be very much like or nearly identical to D/s, M/s, and TPE relationships."_
> 
>  
> 
> Pet play is not predator/prey type role-play, though there are other types of animal play that cover this aspect and while _"certain types of animal play may focus on humiliation and shaming"_ I, much like the author of the article I'm quoting, would like to make a clear distinction between the two. In this story, neither humiliation nor shaming are Draco's kinks and you won't find them in this story.
> 
> You may have noted that Draco told Caleb in a previous chapter that he had no intention of ever being a pet but let's take a moment to consider three important points:  
>  _1) Who did Draco say this to?_  
>  _2) What kind of relationship does he have with Caleb?_  
>  _3) Is Draco really the type of person to engage in a round of sassy banter with Caleb (it's the first time they've met in person) and then admit to the same person that he'd like to be Harry's pet?_
> 
> The way I see "my" character, after having spent more than six months in a very intimate relationship with him, he's not the type of person to share personal preferences and information with a person who is, essentially, still a stranger to him. He would be sassy (it's his guard) and even if he was curious about it, he would only really feel comfortable admitting that to Harry and only when they are alone together.
> 
> Furthermore, let's note that there are many different types of pet play.
> 
> In this chapter Harry is merely giving Draco a small taste of what it feels like to be his pet, however throughout the scene Draco does not exhibit any typical animal-type behaviour. If he was a kitten, he might want to nuzzle Harry's hand, or rub his cheek against Harry's leg. If he was a puppy, he might enjoy licking Harry's hand and/or trying to pounce on him as a playful puppy might do.
> 
> Harry does not expect him to do any of that and essentially treats him like a human pet. He expects him to kneel and keep his hands behind his back and his head lowered to show his submission, he coaxes him into trying to wear a collar which is a massive step for Draco -- being given a collar by your Dom/Master is a really big thing in BDSM. It shows ownership, submission and a certain depth of relationship. It's serious and on a personal note, it irks me when it's treated like it's nothing special in stories. For many couples a collar is the equivalent of a wedding ring so for Harry to give Draco a collar shows how much he cares about him, how much he loves him and how important Draco is to him.
> 
> Now, let's go back to some aspects of pet play and compare them to what happens in this chapter:
> 
> Sure, Harry puts Draco on a leash but not because he wishes for him to turn into an animal. The leash is merely a symbol, an extension of Harry's hand and of the control he has over Draco. The leash means power, power Harry has that Draco does not.
> 
> Yes, Harry also expects Draco to crawl, he coaxes him into it, even gives him a clear out (since he's never asked him to do that before) but again, that isn't something specific to pet play. It's a sign of submission and for Draco it's also pushing the boundaries ever so gently. 
> 
> Draco is the submissive (he doesn't get to walk or stand or look directly at Harry, those are the most common rules in BDSM). Harry is the Dom (walking and standing are two ways in which he exhibits the power he has over Draco).
> 
> I do invite you to spend a few minutes of your time on reading the whole article on ["Pet Play"](https://limitsunleashed.com/2017/01/05/pet-play/) from which I have cited small passages and which I have used to explain some things to those of you who might not be very familiar with the whole concept of "Pet Play" but are only aware of small aspects of it. You'll find it very informative, and I promise it won't take more than five minutes of your time. I don't think you'll regret the additional piece of information.
> 
> In fact, you'll find a lot of useful information on the website itself, so if you're interested do browse it at your own leisure.


	35. Frontpage News

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)  
> 
> 
> Well, I wasn’t going to post this until tomorrow but it’s going to be busy morning ( _and probably also afternoon_ ) at work, so I’m not sure when I’d get around to taking the adequate amount of time to write a long ramble to accompany this chapter ( _weirdly enough I feel like it’s become some sort of tradition for me to get on my soapbox_ ).
> 
> If you’re wondering, ( _which you probably aren’t_ *grin*) it’s purple. The soapbox, I mean.
> 
> I don’t actually have anything special to say about this chapter, except that it’s Draco’s POV and later on Harry’s and it’s also a bit **angsty**.
> 
> And now the real reason why I’m posting this today...I unexpectedly made someone very special really happy today and it’s made me happy as well, like really really crazy happy and since so many of you like this story ( _thanks again for all your love, you wonderful souls!_ ) I decided to pay it forward and share my happiness with you by hopefully making you happy as well.
> 
> I’ll have another update for you on **Thursday**.
> 
> Love,  
> Selly x
> 
> P.S. _K_ , this one is for you. I know, this is pointless since the whole story is for you but well, it still is for you. Thank you — you know why.

* * *

  

> **_It’ll be your way of telling me that you’d like to surrender, a little sign that you’d like me to take control for a while, look after you, take care of you, make you feel good…_**

  
Harry’s words echoed in Draco’s head, incessantly teasing him yet at the same time caressing every part of him, settling around him like a thin layer of fog that made it hard to think clearly or to think at all, if he was honest with himself.

He clutched the soft smooth leather collar in his hand tightly and slid off the sofa and onto his knees in front of the coffee table. His eyes wandered over the assortment of wizarding newspapers and magazines splayed out before him but settled on none.

The headlines differed wildly but the photographs all conveyed the same clear message.

 _The Chosen One_ had chosen.

 _The Saviour of the Wizarding World_ was in love with another man.

 _Harry Potter_ was in a relationship with Draco Malfoy. Not a single mention of the fact that he was the Ministry for Magic’s finest prosecutor.

 _Director Potter_ , _Head of the Auror Department_ , wasn’t defending himself against the Dark Arts anymore but embracing them instead.

What utter pillock, Draco hadn’t dabbled in the Dark Arts since before the end of the war and afterwards he’d been far too busy getting his NEWTs and studying every law book he’d been able to get his hands on, to care about such nonsense.

Suddenly, _Gryffindor vs. Slytherin_ had taken on an entirely different meaning.

Words like _Former Death_ _Eater_ , _Marked_ , _Redemption,_ and _Second Chances_ taunted Draco without the slightest bit of mercy, threateningly glaring up at him from the front page of every single wizarding newspaper and magazine published in Britain.

Draco’s vision blurred and his chest tightened to the degree that breathing became so difficult he wanted to give up on it altogether.

They were bringing it all up again, every sordid detail of his past, every single mistake Father had ever made. Everything he had fought so hard to make people forget about, yet the papers saw it fit to drag it all up again, to humiliate him, to shame him.

Lest the Wizarding World forget, lest they grant him respite from his nightmares, lest they grant Harry respite to finally live his life the way he wanted to live it.

Did such a thing even exist?

Draco doubted it.

He’d stopped believing in _respite_ a long time ago…

Or at least until Harry had reappeared in his life and turned it upside down. Again and in the best way possible.

He had a talent for that, didn’t he?

Suddenly, Draco was no longer frontpage news because of his skills in the courtroom.

No, he was frontpage news because of whom he had fallen in love with.

Suddenly, he wasn’t frontpage news because he had helped to convict a criminal who deserved to rot behind thick steel bars in the dark dampness that was Azkaban.

No, he was frontpage news because he was the man Harry chose to spend his private time with.

A part of Draco wanted to laugh, except his throat refused to emit that sound.  
   

> **_…take care of you…_ **

  
Harry’s warm, soft voice tormented him sweetly and Draco tightened his hold on the collar and pressed it to his chest. He brought it up to his neck and sighed when the soft fur lining tickled his bare skin.

It felt so good, so right.

It felt like a safety net.

The urge to fasten the collar around his neck was almost irresistible and he let out a soft whimper as his fingers toyed with the clasp.

He still wasn’t sure why he wanted it so badly but he did and he couldn’t deny it, couldn’t hide it.  
   

>   ** _…take control…_**
> 
> **_…look after you…_ **

  
Moving images of Harry’s strong arms wrapped around him as they embraced, oblivious to anyone watching.

Moving images of Harry’s lips on his own as they kissed without the slightest bit of embarrassment or shame.

Moving images of him and Harry sharing private moment after private moment.

All of them playing on a loop on the front pages of every single wizarding newspaper.

Draco felt dizzy just watching.

An appalling intrusion of privacy, that’s what it was.

Not one single newspaper had asked for a statement from either one of them.

No, they’d simply taken the photographs, sold to them by an anonymous photographer, and gone right ahead with the exposé, regardless of the damage it might cause and the hurt it would bring about.

Draco gingerly clambered to his feet, compelled himself to let go of the collar and leaving it lying on the sofa, he stumbled into his kitchen.

He made it to the sink just in time.

An all-consuming wave of nausea rolled over him and he dry-heaved.

At first, it was a pathetic retch that brought up nothing but air, then the rank stench of bile rising into his throat brought with it another wave of nausea and another.

It forced him to bring his lunch back up and there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop the inevitable from happening.

He clasped his shaking hands around the edges of the kitchen counter and his stomach convulsed repeatedly.

His eyes watered and his mind filled with images of himself, naked, arms bound tightly behind his back, collared and on a leash, kneeling in front of Harry Potter, passively awaiting his Master’s orders.

Would they find out about that too?

Would they manage to get photographs of him when he was at his most vulnerable?

Would they unscrupulously expose his desire submit to Harry, his inclination to allow Harry to control him, to dominate him?

Would they ruin him over this?

Bring his career to an end?

They certainly had it in them, he knew that much.

Draco retched harder and louder and felt his knees threaten to give in as he deposited every bit of his lunch and some of his breakfast in the sink.

His throat burned and he shivered.

A cold sweat broke out all over his body and as he jerked his leg forward to steady himself, he stubbed his toe. The searing pain that shot up his leg spread through his body like cursed wildfire and the thought of that pushed his mind into a very dark place.

He learnt that sobbing and retching at the same time resulted in choking and doubled his efforts to empty his stomach of all its contents.

The rotten taste of bile continued to fill his mouth and tears streamed down his cheeks. He desperately tried and failed to calm his nerves and stop his stomach muscles from contracting painfully but they relentlessly forced him to continue to bring up half-digested food that burned his oesophagus and the inside of his mouth.

Blind panic gripped him, the kind of irrational panic he hadn’t felt in years, and his throat constricted even further. He spluttered and choked, groaned, and made a pitiful attempt to continue vomiting.

Why did it have to be such an effort?

Getting it down and into his stomach was easy and oh so pleasurable.

Why did doing the reverse consume every ounce of his energy?

“Ssssh, breathe through your nose, Draco, breathe deeply and breathe slowly.”

Harry's soothing voice suddenly filled his ears and mind and a strong arm circled around him and steadied him as his legs finally gave away from under him.

A warm, familiar hand closed around his wrist and Harry’s thumb circled over the pulse point on his wrist.

Draco was vaguely aware of the fact that his vomit vanished from the kitchen sink but even that couldn’t stop him from heaving.

A strange sort of heavy weariness filled him and he tried to blink, tried to focus but his vision stubbornly remained blurry and nothing made sense.

His head throbbed with the beginnings of a splitting headache and he felt like someone had repeatedly cast the Cruciatus Curse over him, torturing him slowly, forcing him to surrender all control in the worst possible way.

“In through your nose, my love, out through your mouth. Slow, deep breaths, with me, do it with me, breathe with me.”

Harry continued to whisper into his ear and Draco wanted to ask him why he was in his flat instead of at work but getting the words out was too much of an effort.

Perhaps Harry was just a figment of his imagination? Perhaps everything that had happened between them over the last few months had just been a dream?

“That’s right, good, you’re doing so well, again, with me, in through your nose, slowly, feel that air fill your lungs, now out through your mouth, slowly, take your time, there’s no rush, focus. Whatever is wrong, we’ll fix it later, now breathe, that’s all that matters.”

Harry.

Draco let that warm, husky voice wash over him like warm water in the shower and gradually felt himself calm down little by little, bit by bit.

Harry’s hand gently rested on his stomach and he rubbed circles with his palm.

Draco didn’t know and didn’t care if he was using a spell or if it was just the feeling of Harry’s hand but the tender touch was enough to quieten his stomach and relax his frayed abdominal muscles.

“How about one more deep breath, my love? Will you do that with me? Come on, in through your nose, slowly, fill every corner of your lungs, now out through your mouth. Yes, that’s good, you’re doing so well.”

Harry’s praise washed over him with the tenderness of a lovingly cast warming spell and Draco relaxed into his embrace, giving himself over to Harry, the way he always did because it felt so utterly right to give in, to surrender to Harry, to just let go of absolutely everything.

Harry’s thumb continued to circle over Draco’s pulse point and his mind grew fuzzy and his thoughts hazy. His vision was still foggy but he didn’t care.

Complete safety.

How did Harry always manage to emanate the feeling of complete safety whenever he did that with his thumb?

Draco’s head filled with at least ten more questions but his throbbing headache told him that thinking wasn’t something he wanted to attempt right now. It seemed too tedious; he didn’t have the nerve for it.

He didn’t have any nerves.

For anything.

“Have some water, my love,” Harry coaxed — _and damn why did he have to be so sweet about it, it was only water_ — and pressed a glass of water to his lips.

Draco parted his lips and welcomed the cool, refreshing taste of water. Never had water, _plain water_ , tasted so good, so right. He swirled it around his mouth, then spit it into the sink and repeated the action twice more.

The vile taste in his mouth disappeared and as the burn in throat lessened, he swallowed tentatively.

He felt grateful when his stomach didn’t object and sighed softly.

Draco was vaguely aware that he should be able to hold on to his own glass of water but he quite frankly couldn’t be arsed to make the effort to lift his hand.

When Harry wondered whether he was coming down with something and suggested that he go upstairs to lie down for a while, he didn’t protest.

Instead, he allowed Harry to half-drag and half-carry him up the stairs and put him to bed.

Having someone take care of you like that was so nice.

You didn’t need to think, you didn’t need to worry, you could just let go, completely, thoroughly, entirely.

Draco sighed.

A gentle cleaning spell removed the sweat sticking to his forehead and plenty of other places and a warming charm enfolded him in a cocoon of safety.

“Sleep, my little prince, have a rest, you need it, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Harry’s low voice was persuasive and his words as sweet as honey and when he started to comb his fingers through his hair, Draco decided that letting his eyes flutter closed was a very good idea indeed.

In fact, it was the best idea.

He allowed his breathing to slow, felt his heart rate settle and drifted off into a peaceful slumber.

* * *

* * *

When Draco woke some two hours later, he felt groggy but happy. He stretched luxuriously and rolling onto his side, he found a note on his bedside table.

Harry’s scrawny handwriting was unmistakable, he’d recognise it anywhere, that much Draco was sure of.

* * *

  **_I’m downstairs…_**

  ** _Love, H. x_**

* * *

He smiled, sat up and stretching his arms over his head, Draco yawned. He swung his legs over the edge off the bed and taking his shirt off, he tossed it into the washing basket. His trousers, boxers and socks followed almost immediately and stretching one last time, he headed into his bathroom and turned the shower on with a leisurely flick of his hand and a mumbled, wandless spell.

He waited for the water to heat up a little, then stepped underneath the powerful jets overhead and closing his eyes he let out a long sigh. He stood motionless, letting the water cascade down over him and wash away the last of his tiredness.

He tried to think about nothing at all but it was easier said than done. Images of today’s frontpage news pushed themselves into the forefront of his mind, and he groaned as the powerful feelings of annoyance began to consume him. He decided to distract himself with shampooing his hair thoroughly and with way too much of his favourite shampoo.

Draco deliberately took his time in the shower, but eventually, the water threatened to turn cold and turning it off, he stepped outside his spacious shower cubicle and summoned a small towel with which he ruffled his hair.

He summoned a second towel and wrapped it around his waist, then headed into his bedroom to search for his wand. He found it on the bed and suspected that Harry had left it there for him.

Returning to the bathroom, Draco dried his hair with a gentle drying spell but too lazy to style it properly, he left it loose and wild, falling over his forehead and the sides over his head. He shook his head, smiled at himself in the mirror and hung up the towel he had dried his hair with. He brushed his teeth, then dried the rest of himself with the other towel and hung that one up too before making his way to his wardrobe to put on some fresh clothes.

After some contemplation, he settled on a pair of grey silken boxer briefs, midnight blue trousers and matching socks as well as a light-grey cashmere jumper. He glanced at himself in the floor-length mirror, ran his fingers through his somewhat messy hair and summoning his wand holster, he pulled up his left sleeve and fastened the leather casing to his forearm. The wand holster was custom-made and concealed the ugly remnants of his Dark Mark perfectly — it was the only reason he loved wearing it.

Today, more so than other days, he really didn’t want to see the faded skull and snake.

Draco reminded himself that Harry didn’t care had even told him so on more than one occasion, but whenever he was feeling frail, staring down at the mark on his left inner forearm was especially hard to do. He felt a shudder surge through him, forced his sombre thoughts to the back of his mind and pulling the door to his bedroom open, he made his way down the stairs.

Soft music played in the living room and Draco smiled. The fact that Harry felt comfortable enough in his flat to act like he lived here made him feel all warm and fuzzy.

If only he felt the same about Grimmauld Place.

Harry had renovated, redesigned, and refurbished the entire house but it was big and while Draco liked staying there, he didn’t feel quite at home.

 _Yet_ , he thought and hoped that his feelings about Harry’s place would change the longer they were together. There was one room he did like very much though and that was Harry’s playroom.

“Good afternoon, sleepyhead.”

Harry greeted him from the sofa in-between two sips of what Draco boldly presumed to be coffee. He had surrounded himself with case files, which he had either brought with him or picked up at the Ministry, Draco wasn’t sure.

“Feeling better?” Harry asked.

Draco nodded.

“You didn’t have to stay,” he said.

Harry smiled.

“I wanted to. There’s coffee in the kitchen if your stomach can handle it. And a sweet treat.”

Draco grinned and turning on his socked heel he headed straight into the kitchen.

His favourite mug stood waiting on the worktop beside the expensive Muggle coffee machine, he considered his pride and joy, and he filled it with hot coffee.

Inhaling deeply, he opened a brown paper take-out container and the butterflies in his stomach fluttered pleasantly when he saw its contents. Harry had gotten him a chocolate croissant and a caramel glazed doughnut from his favourite local bakery.

He opened the fridge and taking out a bottle of milk, he poured some of it into an empty mug and cast a mild heating charm over it. When the milk was warm, he poured it into his coffee and returned the milk bottle to the fridge. He took out a plate from the cupboard above the coffee machine and transferred the pastries onto the plate before discarding the take-out container into the rubbish bin.

Plate and milky coffee in hand, he returned to the living room and gave Harry a broad smile.

“I love you,” he said earnestly, then sat on the sofa.

He put his plate down on the coffee table and noticed at once that Harry had cleared the table of all the magazines. They now made up a neat stack beside the coffee table and Draco sighed. He sipped his coffee and chose to eat the caramel glazed doughnut first.

“It’s only coffee and pastries,” Harry laughed.

Draco shrugged.

“Maybe, but it’s coffee and pastries from _you_.”

“Charmer.”

“I learnt from the best.”

“Oh? And who’s that?”

“Some tosser called Harry Potter.”

“Never heard of him.”

Harry gave him a lopsided grin and a wink that made the butterflies in Draco’s stomach flutter again.

“You must have, he killed a Dark Lord a couple of years back. Papers say he’s dating me.”

Harry laughed.

“I saw those today. You’re a lucky bastard, Draco Malfoy. He’s got a nice piece of arse.”

“Wouldn’t know, he won’t let me have his arse,” Draco muttered.

He quickly took a large bite of his caramel glazed doughnut, which he washed down with some coffee when Harry quirked a curious eyebrow at him.

“Do you want my arse, Draco?”

He asked the question with that sexy husky bedroom-voice that made Draco want to melt and admit his deepest darkest desires.

He drank his coffee instead.

“That’s another conversation for another time, Harry, I think we have more pressing problems now.”

He resolutely changed the topic and glowered at the stack of newspapers on the floor beside the coffee table. He couldn’t help but wonder whether it was possible to channel your magic through your eyes and _Incendio_ the whole pile.

“I’m going to sue every single paper for libel, what they are doing is deliberate and malicious defamation of character,” he snarled.

A wave of white-hot anger surged through him.

“I’m not a lawyer, but in my humble opinion, I think you’re going to lose that case. Let me take care of you, I’ll deal with it.”

Draco set his coffee mug down on the coffee table with such venom that some of its contents spilt. He vanished them with a wave of his hand and a growled incantation, then raised his head and crossing his arms over his chest, he glared at Harry.

“Let you take care of it? What am I to you? A damsel in distress that needs protecting? Stuff your fucking Hero Complex and use it on somebody who wants The Chosen One to come swooping in to rescue them. Too right you’re not a lawyer, _Potter_!”

Draco spat Harry’s last name in a way he hadn’t done in years and felt smug when he saw Harry visibly flinch.

“Have you actually read the headlines or any of the articles? Have you read what they’re writing about me, Potter? Have you? As usual, Wizarding Britain’s Golden Boy can do no harm, your position as Head Auror has made you un- _fucking_ -touchable, again, and as always! Long live Director Potter, our Chosen Saviour!”

Draco snapped. He rose to his feet and fuming with anger, he uncrossed his arms and clenched his fists instead. He glared daggers at Harry and suddenly casting an _Incendio_ at the stack of papers didn’t seem as rewarding as casting _Reducto_ at Harry.

“Do you know how hard I worked to pass the bar after the war? I studied day and night for four years, five if you count the time it took me to get my NEWTS! I didn’t give myself a break, not once! I worked as a lowly public defender because the Ministry didn’t care about my law degree. All they saw in me was a former Death Eater crawling at their feet begging for redemption. Public Defenders get a minimum wage, even when they’ve got zero experience in the courtroom! I got _nothing_! I worked eighteen-hour days seven days a week for two years without ever seeing a single knut. Not once did I complain, ask my mother if you don’t believe me! I kept my head down and I did my time. I fought my arse off for those who didn’t deserve it and those who did. I had to prove myself repeatedly and all because of Father’s mistakes. Minister Shacklebolt issued me a formal pardon after the war, he gave me a second chance. Nobody cared! It took litres of blood, sweat and tears before they as much as looked at me in a different light before they started taking me even a little bit serious!”

Draco paused to take a deep breath. He was shaking and he couldn’t stop shaking. He hadn’t felt this furious in years and now that he had started, he didn’t know how to stop his explosion.

“And you, _Potter_? You fucked off right after the war, you turned your back on it all, yet you have the audacity to sit here and tell me to basically let it go, to not even put up a fight. I did that once and what did it get me? The Dark Mark! I worked too hard to get to where I am. This job is my life, it’s all I have and I am not giving it up without a fight. I’m not going to sit here and take it. I’m not going to let them call me a Death Eater all over again and drag my name through the mud. I’ve paid the price for my stupidity; hell, I even paid the price for Father’s mistakes! I deserve a break as much as the next person. I’ve done nothing but good since I took the job in the prosecutor’s chambers and even before then—”

“Are you quite finished?”

Harry suddenly cut in with a calm collectedness that instantly infuriated Draco. He snarled and wished he had it in him to explode Harry with a dark glower.

Harry was still sitting on the sofa, with his arms and legs uncrossed, quietly listening to him blow up all over him. Rationality and probably also common sense had long since left Draco and before he realised what he was doing he had drawn his wand and was pointing it at Harry.

“No, I’m _not finished_ , Potter! Somehow you seem to have gotten the impression that I will just quietly sink to my knees and do whatever I’m told. Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you but I’m not that person! I will not kneel and take their beatings! I’ve done it once and I’m not doing it again. You get to walk away unscathed; your career isn’t going down the drain because of this, I might as well just start drafting my letter of resignation!”

Draco continued to rant and tightening his grip on his wand he pointed it at the centre of Harry’s chest.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, _Potter_! You usually never stop talking, where’s all that presumptuous arrogant confidence now? Figures you aren’t in the least bit pissed off with these articles, they’re still painting you as a Saint!”

Draco growled and firmly resisted the temptation to take a step back when Harry slowly got up.

“Where is all that sass now, Harry Potter, huh? Where is the boy who used to blow up in my face when I just looked at him wrong?”

Draco sneered.

“Are you done insulting me and our relationship or is there anything else you’d like to throw at my head?”

Harry asked, exuding nothing but calm self-control and it infuriated Draco even more.

He lowered his wand and pointed it at the stack of newspapers. A mumbled combination of two spells, cast in rapid succession transformed the papers into tiny fluttering Origami birds.

“ _Oppugno_!” he shouted.

A thousand tiny Origami birds hurtled towards Harry in a fit of frustration and anger. He couldn’t understand why Harry was still so calm and why he refused to engage in their argument.

Harry flicked his wrist and drew his wand so rapidly that Draco felt just a little dizzy.

He slashed it through the air with a skilled swoosh.

“ _Finite Incantatem!_ ”

He cast the counter spell with refined precision and the papers tore themselves up and rained to the floor. Harry banished them with a lazy flick of his wand.

“ _Serpens_ —”

Lost in the throes of his irrational rage, Draco tried to summon a snake, though he had no idea why. It wasn’t like either he or Harry were afraid of snakes.

“ _Expelliarmus!_ ”

Harry cut him off with a quiet but pointed disarming spell and Draco watched as his wand flew out of his hand and sailed through the air. Harry caught it with ease and sheathing his own wand, he placed Draco’s on the table.

“I’m not going to duel with you, Draco,” he said quietly.

The words sent a shudder through Draco and made his skin crawl.

He stared at Harry and instead of feeling outraged over the way Harry had so effortlessly disarmed him, he felt shame.

Harry looked hurt and Draco felt his blood run cold. He had taken things too far, he had pushed Harry too far, he had said too many nasty things.

“Harry—” he whispered.

Harry merely shook his head.

“No, Draco. Let me know when you’re ready to have a serious conversation about this, and we’ll deal with it like grown-ups,” he said calmly, then moved across the room.

“Where are you going?” Draco asked.

He willed his feet to move so that he could dash across the room to plant himself in front of Harry. His mind was in turmoil and he was afraid. He didn’t want Harry to leave.

Anything but that. Anything at all.

“Home. You’re welcome to come by when you’re ready to talk,” Harry said.

“No,” Draco shook his head again. “No. No. Don’t go.”

Harry turned around and regarded him carefully. His green eyes pierced right through Draco and he shook his head, fervently trying to think of something that would stop Harry from leaving. _Incarcerous_ came to mind but his wand was still on the table and Draco didn’t possess the calm cool required to summon it wandlessly.

“Is there something else you haven’t said yet that you’d like to get off your chest before I leave?” Harry asked.

“No.”

Draco breathed and forcing his feet to move, he tried to get to Harry. He reached for Harry’s hand but Harry pulled it out of reach at the last second and Draco’s fingers closed around thin air.  
   

> **_…take care of you…_ **

  
Harry’s words echoed in Draco’s head as he watched Harry moved closer to the door, the feeling of helplessness in his chest increased tenfold. His mind repeatedly screamed _no, don’t go, I need you_ and the irrationality that had made him lose his temper now paralysed him with fear.

A scathing voice in his head told him that once Harry was out the door, Draco would never see him again and he couldn’t let that happen, he couldn’t let Harry leave.

“Don’t go,” he pleased.

Harry did not turn around.  
   

> **_…take care of you…_ **
> 
> **_…look after you…_ **

  
Desperate, Draco reached out for Harry again but the gap between them was too wide and Draco’s hands grasped at nothing. His eyes darted around the room and settled on his wand.

Harry’s words continued to ring in his ears and Draco lunged for his wand but could not bring himself to point it at Harry, not again, never again.

His hands trembled violently and he watched as Harry put on his shoes, tied his laces, and took his scarlet Auror robes off the coat hook by the door.

Any second now he would reach for the doorknob and disappear from Draco’s life forever and Draco could not let that happen.

Anything but that.

Blind with fear and panic, Draco did the only thing he could think of.

He scrambled for the collar, Harry had gifted him, and dropping his wand, he clasped his shaking hands around it and brought it up to his neck. He didn’t know how but somehow, he managed to fasten the clasp into place and the moment he did, Harry’s shoulders straightened and he stood completely still.

The charm, Harry had cast upon it, worked. Draco hadn’t believed it at first, had been convinced that Harry had merely made a joke when he’d cast it. Draco swallowed, lowered his head submissively and let his arms dangle at his sides.

“Take care of me, please, Harry. I need you.”

Draco whispered into the room and held his breath as he waited and listened for the opening and closing of the door to his flat.

It never came.

Instead, he felt Harry’s hand cup his chin and gently force it up. Not daring to look at Harry, Draco let his eyes nervously dart around the room and eventually settled on the clasp at the front of Harry’s Auror robes. He swallowed hard and feeling cold, he shivered. He tried to tell his hands to stop shaking but they wouldn’t listen. The intensity with which he felt Harry’s touch was enough to bring him to his knees and much to his embarrassment he felt his eyes fill with tears.

“I need you,” he mumbled.

He felt desperate, afraid, alone, and completely unsettled.

“Look at me,” Harry said softly.

Draco couldn’t comprehend how Harry’s voice could be so soft yet so firm all at once.

Ordinarily, Draco would not hesitate to obey that softly spoken firm command but right this moment honouring Harry’s request felt almost impossible. He wanted to look at Harry but a small part of him resolutely stomped its foot and told him that he didn’t deserve to look Harry in the eye, not after all the insults and hurtful things he had thrown at his head. He fully expected Harry to get angry, to reprimand him for not obeying but that scolding never came.

Instead, Harry caressed his cheek and Draco shivered.

“Look at me, my little prince.”

Harry merely repeated his request and the unquenchable desire to comply flooded Draco, taking over completely. It started in the centre of his chest and flowed through his body into his extremities. He slowly lifted his gaze and looked at Harry. His emerald green eyes shone with a tenderness; Draco didn’t feel he deserved. There was love too, and Draco felt even more undeserving of that. He tried to choke back a sob but it broke free and he felt hot tears spill over the rim of his eyes.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

He babbled mindlessly and reaching out he twisted his fingers into Harry’s robes.

“Don’t leave me, don’t break up with me,” he pleaded.

“Silly fool. I’m not going to break up with you, Draco,” Harry said softly.

His fingers found their way into his still slightly damp hair and Draco felt his knees buckle.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m—”

“Shush.”

Harry’s voice cut through his apology and he placed a single finger across Draco’s lips.

“You’re sorry, I got the message, now listen to me, OK?”

Draco nodded and felt Harry wipe his tears away.

“I saw the papers, I read the articles and I’m as angry as you.”

Draco opened his mouth in immediate protest. He wanted to tell Harry that he didn’t look angry at all but Harry increased the pressure of his finger, that was still resting across his lips and silenced him without ever telling him to be quiet, then continued talking.

“Those articles hurt me too, you know? What they wrote about you, they’re insulting me as much as they’re insulting you. How do you think I feel reading something like this about the man I love? Do you think it makes me feel good? I know how hard you worked to get where you are and I know how much your job means to you. You’re brilliant and passionate, you pour your heart into every case you take. When you stand up in the courtroom, you take my breath away. Just because I’m not walking round exploding things and screaming at the top of my lungs, doesn’t mean I’m not angry, Draco. I’m livid. But I’m not going to rise to their bait and give them what they want. They want to see me lose the plot over this and it’s not going to happen, I’m not going to give them that satisfaction.”

“You have a plan,” Draco whispered against Harry’s finger.

It wasn’t a question; it was a statement.

 Withdrawing his finger, Harry smiled.

“You know I do.”

“What are you going to do?”

A positively sly smile crept onto Harry’s face and Draco felt mildly concerned.

“Why, I’m going to give them an exclusive interview, of course.”

Draco wanted to raise his objections because that was a bloody stupid idea. Giving the press an exclusive interview seemed like a reward and not at all like a punishment. He couldn’t help but think that Harry had lost his touch with reality.

Harry gave him a knowing smile, one that said _I-know-exactly-what-you’re-thinking-now-stop-it-because-I’m-about-to-prove-you-wrong_.

“By the time the interview is published you will have written apologies from every single news publication on your desk and they will be issuing complete retractions.”

Draco sighed.

“You’re insane, Potter. How do you plan to accomplish that? By caning them into submission and forcing them to do your bidding?”

Harry smirked.

“No, that was Voldemort’s style. I prefer a gentler approach. While there’s nothing wrong with a good caning, in this instance I prefer a verbal whipping. It hurts so much more.”

“There’s absolutely everything wrong with getting a caning and there’s nothing good about it,” Draco mumbled.

He gave Harry a very apprehensive look.

“I’ve seen pictures, it looks fucking painful. There’s no way I’ll ever let you do that to me.”

Harry smiled and Draco was at once unnerved and his disquiet increased tenfold, though he wasn’t sure why.

“Hard limit,” he replied stubbornly, trying to mask his fear.

The rational part of his brain told him that Harry wasn’t going to conjure up a cane, yank his trousers down and hit him black and blue, but somehow that part wasn’t strong enough to completely quench his fears, not in his current frame of mind.

Harry continued smiling.

“Duly noted. No caning,” he said.

He hooked his finger into the O-ring at the front of Draco’s collar and pulling him close, he pressed his cheek to Draco’s and feeling Harry’s breath against his ear caused a shudder of excitement to surge through Draco. Harry wrapped his arms around him and engulfing him in a hug, he squeezed tightly.

“ _If_ I was to ever cane my disobedient little prince, it would never be a surprise punishment and it would never be in anger. You would know exactly what was coming and why. You’d know you deserved it. I’d even give you a chance to explain yourself and depending on the explanation the result might be a lesser form of punishment,” Harry whispered in his ear.

Draco shivered, not because he was scared but because he was strangely excited and that felt so completely wrong and yet so right that he couldn’t wrap his mind around it.

“The answer is still no,” he whispered, too afraid of the pain to really allow his mind to indulge in the fantasy.

“You can spank me instead.”

Harry chuckled.

“You enjoy that way too much, my little prince. It wouldn’t be a punishment at all.”

“Hit harder then.”

Draco inhaled deeply. He couldn’t help but wonder how much longer his legs would support him or why he had told Harry to hit him harder next time he spanked him.

_Next time…_

Draco swallowed a groan and pushed that thought to the furthest and darkest corner of his mind.

Harry’s gentle laugh travelled right down his spine and when his hands cupped Draco’s buttocks, he couldn’t help but yelp and let out a low whine.

“I’ll make sure to remember you telling me that, little prince,” he said.

When he squeezed his arse again, Draco’s knees gave away and he slumped against Harry, who, instead of supporting him let him slowly sink to the floor and he found himself kneeling at Harry’s feet.

Looking up at Harry, Draco felt his lips quiver and his hands started shaking again.

“Is that all it takes to make you want to kneel for me, my love? Just how badly do you want that spanking?”

Harry teased and Draco felt himself flush crimson red.

He coughed to clear his throat.

“I don’t want a spanking,” he said and frowned.

His voice was too high and sounded all squeaky. This was wrong, very wrong, and what Harry was doing to him was also wrong.

Wrong and unfair.

He was being extremely Slytherin and Draco had no idea how to handle Harry’s slyness. He hadn’t even been in Slytherin but acted like it more than half of the time — it was a mindfuck.

“Are you absolutely sure?”

Harry looked down at him and held his gaze.

When Harry combed his fingers through his hair and caressed his cheek, Draco, against his better judgement, mewled. Not trusting his voice not to come out all high-pitched and squeaky again, Draco chose to simply nod.

Harry smiled.

“Well, as long as you’re sure. I wouldn’t want to give you something you don’t want or need.”

Draco felt him reach under his armpits and pull him to his feet.

“Devil,” he whispered.

Harry’s throaty laughter sent jolts of pleasure down his spine and they pooled low in his groin.

“Such a lovely compliment, my little prince. However, I must disappoint you. After the day we both had, playtime is entirely ill-advised. I suggest that you make us some dinner and I head over to the Ministry to take care of some important business. We can have a nice long conversation when I return. If I'm back in an hour, will dinner be on the table?”

“Hour and a half,” Draco breathed.

He wished he knew how to wipe that smirk of Harry’s face. Somehow, he wanted to smack him and kiss him all at the same time.

“Fine. An hour and a half, but do not take off that collar, you do not have my permission to do so. Since you were so desperate to put it on to stop me from leaving, you might as well keep wearing it as a little reminder of whom you belong to while you make me dinner and then maybe for some time after that, until I decide the message has sunken in,” Harry said.

Then, before Draco could respond to that, Harry’s lips were on his and his tongue was pushing into his mouth and he was claiming him with such a gloriously possessive kiss that Draco’s legs turned to jelly and his brain filled with a thick haze that made it quite impossible to think straight.

He fisted his hands into Harry’s robes, pressed himself up against Harry’s strong, muscular body and letting out a low moan, he tried to deepen the kiss.

Harry hands cupped his face and held his head firmly in position as he kissed him and Draco had no doubt, no doubt at all, over who was in charge and he was completely fine with that, more than fine.

He wanted it and he needed it.

He wanted Harry to be in control. Today, he needed it more than anything.

When Harry gave him a cheeky slap on his arse, he yelped into the kiss and when Harry pulled away from him and left him feeling like something vital was missing, he whimpered.

His heart hammered in his chest and he tried and failed to control his breathing.

He stared at Harry, drowned in those entirely too green eyes, and swallowed hard.

Draco felt dazed, hazy, and strangely unable to focus on anything at all.

“Yours,” he whispered because _I love you_ sounded so wrong and not at all strong enough right about now.

He lowered his head and waited.

Harry’s hand cupped his chin and forced it up.

Draco’s eyes met Harry’s again and he shuddered.

“Yes. Mine,” Harry growled.

He kissed him again. It was a hard and bruising kiss; it was possessive and dominating and Draco loved everything about it. He loved the way Harry sucked at his tongue and swiped his own over every inch of the inside of his mouth, then bit his lip roughly.

Draco moaned at the sting and felt his knees buckle again.

“You better be a good little prince while I’m gone or you’ll get that spanking after all,” Harry said with a warning look in his eyes.

Suddenly, Draco had no idea whether Harry was telling him to be good or asking him to misbehave. Somehow, he wanted to be both. He didn’t care either way but felt strangely bereft when Harry pulled away, turned on his heel and disappeared through the front door.

Draco sank down on the sofa, ran his hands through his hair and touched a finger to his lip.

“Fucking hell!”

He remained seated for another five minutes and tried to gather his wits and calm his overexcited body down. He was rock-hard and squeezing his cock through his trousers, he thought about heading upstairs for a quick wank but Harry’s words, asking him to be good, resonated in his ears. He couldn’t help but wonder whether a sneaky wank would result in that spanking Harry had just taunted him with and as he rubbed his palm against his hard prick, he couldn’t resist the temptation to find out.

This felt entirely wrong on so many levels but as he found himself undoing his trousers and slipping his hand into his boxers, Draco decided that being objective was something he did at work and not at home.

He wrapped his hand around his hard, throbbing cock and leaning back on the sofa, he spread his legs, closed his eyes, and started fisting himself to the somewhat twisted fantasy of Harry walking in on him and finding him misbehaving.

He fantasied about Harry roughly forcing him over his knees and stroking himself harder, he let out a low moan and bit his sore lip. It stung perfectly and he pictured Harry yanking his trousers and boxers down. He felt his cock twitch and conjuring up some lube, Draco imagined Harry’s hand repeatedly coming down on his arse, reddening it nicely. Merlin, he wanted that spanking so badly. He wanted Harry to turn his arse red. He wanted to feel the sharp sting of Harry’s palm connecting with his bare skin and he wanted to feel his skin throb, pulse, and burn in the aftermath of each blow.

It didn’t take him long until he felt the tug of his orgasm. It started low in the pit of his stomach and working himself harder still, Draco felt his balls tighten. He let out a loud groan.

Although Harry wasn’t around to spank him, he felt his arse thrum with desire. He tensed and promptly came on a low groan of Harry’s name and spurted his come into his hand. He leisurely stroked himself for few seconds and withdrawing his hand from his trousers, Draco slid off the sofa and crawled over to where he had dropped his wand earlier.

He clasped his clean hand around the hilt and vanished the trace of his naughtiness, then did himself up and holstered his wand. He headed into the kitchen to wash his hands and drink a glass of water.

It took him another few moments to really come down from his thigh and he hooked his finger into the O-ring at the front of his collar and tugged gently.

A stupid smile spread across his face and taking a deep breath, he headed into the living room to clear the table and upon his return to the kitchen, he finished his chocolate croissant, gulped down his cold coffee, cleaned the dirty dishes, and humming the melody of an old Muggle pop tune, he set about making dinner for both him and Harry.

While he moved about the kitchen, preparing everything he would need to start cooking, he couldn’t help but fervently wish that once Harry came back from the Ministry, he would somehow manage to find out about his naughty wank and scold him for it. The idea appealed a lot and Draco simply couldn’t get it out of his head — not that he was trying to get it out of his head. He wanted Harry to put him over his knee and spank him for his boldness…

* * *

* * *

Sometime after dinner and after they'd finished watching a silly romantic comedy on television, Harry reached for the remote control and turning the volume down, he ran his fingers slowly through Draco's silky blond hair.

Draco shuffled onto his back, pulled his knees up, and with his head still resting in Harry's lap, he blinked a few times.

"Hey," he mumbled.

Harry smiled.

He rested his hand on top of Draco's chest and feeling the steady beat of his heart, he let a few moments of silence pass between them, then lifted his hand off and trailed a single finger up Draco's breastbone, then hooked it around the O-ring at the front of Draco's collar. It had been hours since Draco had put it on but Harry still hadn't allowed him to take it off and Draco hadn't asked him to either.

He gave the leather collar a tiny tug and Draco let out a soft breath of air. It wasn't exactly a sigh but it wasn't far off from one.

"There's a little something I'd like to talk to you about," Harry said.

He made sure to keep his voice warm and soft, an indirect reassurance that what he was about to say wasn't a reprimand.

"What?" Draco asked softly.

Harry gave the collar another very gentle tug, then ran his finger long the edge of it, brushing the skin on Draco's neck ever so lightly.

Draco shuddered and exhaled slowly.

"This collar, Draco, is a sign of your submission to me. I gave it to you to show you how much I love you and how much I care about you. It means everything to me to see you wear it, however, please remember it's not a free pass to get out of an argument or a discussion. That's not how it works, it can never work this way."

Harry cupped Draco's cheek and caressed it softly, running his thumb repeatedly over his cheekbone, applying the gentlest amount of pressure only.

"You look so beautiful with my collar around your neck, my sweet little prince, I wouldn't be opposed to seeing you wear it everyday all day. Just please, don't use it to get out of an uncomfortable situation."

He watched as Draco swallowed hard and blinked.

"Harry— I—" he breathed, then paused, looking both shy and uncomfortable at the same time.

"It's just the two of us," Harry said with a soft smile, hoping to encourage Draco to open up to him.

He had a pretty good idea as to why Draco had so suddenly grabbed the collar and fastened it around his neck but he wanted to hear Draco's explanation, his reasoning.

"I was terrified," Draco whispered. "You said you were going to go home and I was terrified and not thinking straight. I suddenly had it in my head that if I let you walk out that door, I'd never see you again."

"Silly," Harry chided with an affectionate smile, then leant down to capture Draco's lips in a tender kiss.

"I can tell you with absolute certainty that I have no plans, none whatsoever, to break up with you. I want to spend as much time as possible with you."

Draco sighed.

"I know that, I just— In that moment, well— I don't know, I just— I wasn't exactly feeling myself."

Harry chuckled softly.

"You most definitely weren't. Drawing your wand on me like that, _please_. As if you'd ever stand a chance."

Draco eyes instantly narrowed and he glowered darkly.

"I wasn't trying very hard, _Potter_."

Harry smirked.

"Yes, my sweet little prince, do keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better."

Draco growled and attempted to sit up but Harry stopped him quite effectively and pressed another kiss to his lips. He combed through Draco's hair and held his gaze until Draco's cheeks pinked and he averted his eyes.

"I could disarm you, if I wanted to," Draco huffed.

He crossed his arms over his chest in annoyance.

Harry kissed the tip of his nose and watched him scrunch his face up and turn it away in a fit of pique — a silent objection to Harry's gentle mocking, though most of it was just for show. Draco's inner brat was coming out to play and Harry rather liked the idea of it.

"Can you keep a secret?" he asked.

Draco turned his head and curiously raised an eyebrow at him.

"What secret?"

"You don't need a wand to disarm me," Harry said with a smile.

Draco groaned and rolled his eyes.

"You're laying it on a bit thick, Potter, aren't you?"

"I mean it, Draco," Harry said softly, his voice low and husky, bordering on downright seductive.

Draco shuddered.

"The gift of your submission is enough to render me defenseless, seeing that, you giving it to me so freely and because you want to; it makes me weak at the knees. I can't help but react when you surrender to me, I can't ignore that. It pushes all my buttons. I'm not trying to be corny, I'm telling you the truth. You allowing me to control you is all it takes, I do not know how to resist you then. It makes me want you with everything I've got. And this is exactly why you cannot, not ever, use the collar to stop me from leaving or to stop us from having a serious conversation. Promise me that this was a one off because you didn't know any better. If we go down this road this relationship isn't going to work out. We have to be able to trust each other and we need to communicate, honestly and without fear. Please don't ever be afraid to talk to me, about anything."

Harry fell silent and watched Draco, holding his gaze as he patiently waited for a response. Several moments of silence passed between them, then Draco stirred. He slowly pushed himself into a sitting position and Harry didn't stop him. Draco reached for his hand and gripped it tightly.

"I'm sorry—" he said quietly.

His voice was so low that it was barely audible but Harry caught his apology anyway. He went to protest, saying that he didn't need Draco to apologise but Draco held up his hand before he could speak and Harry decided to swallow his objections until he'd heard everything of what Draco wanted to say.

"I understand and I agree. Seeing our relationship, all those private moments splashed all over the frontpages of every magazine in the country, it messed me up a little. I'm not trying to use it as an excuse, and I'm really sorry for lashing out at you earlier... I'm just— I'm— I'm scared Harry. I worked so hard for everything. I can't lose the life I built for myself."

"You won't lose it. I promised you that I'll take care of it and that's what I'll do."

"Are you really going to give them an exclusive interview?"

Harry smirked.

"You bet I am, Malfoy. You know what it feels like when I make your mind melt, now watch me to it to somebody who has no clue what's hit them."

A sly grin crept onto Draco's face.

"Go, Slytherin, go," he said.

Harry laughed.

"I'm going you give you the show of a lifetime, my little prince. You just wait. The Prophet has no idea what's about to hit them," he said, then reached out to hook his finger into the O-ring at the front of Draco's collar.

"Come here, you sexy thing."

"Ngh!"

Draco let out a low moan and moved forward willingly. Harry kissed him hard and possessively and confident that Draco had understood, that he knew the collar was a sign of his submission and not a tool to be used to force Harry's hand, he pushed Draco back into the sofa cushions and continued to assault his mouth, determined to kiss him until Draco was breathlessly begging him for more.


	36. The Interview

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)  
> 
> 
> A showdown of the sweetest kind. I don’t think you’ll find it hard to believe that I’ve had loads of fun writing this chapter, then again I don’t think there was a single chapter in this story that I didn’t enjoy creating — some were easier than others, some were challenging to the degree that they gave me an opportunity to grow as a writer and a person.
> 
> I belatedly added another scene to this chapter, simply because I felt that it needed to be written. 
> 
> It was a moment that I had stuck in my head for the longest time — some things just need to be told.
> 
> I have it on good authority that the old rule for **_NOT_** consuming hot (or cold for that matter) beverages while reading this chapter still stands and I’m therefore invoking it — consider this your official warning. Also consider this me not accepting any responsibility if you decide to be bold, not listen, and then end up choking on something long and hard...err I mean liquid and hot (damn you, autocorrect!)...I’m not looking at you, wifey, or you, coffee bean, or you, Katie Kat, and I’m definitely not looking at you K... I know you’re all very good and very obedient people and you’d never dream of not following the rules...because you all know I’m **_very_** handy with a whip, although I will also agree to using a riding crop or a flogger, if that’s more up your alley.
> 
> Right, enough said, enjoy the chapter.

* * *

“Thank you, my love.”

Harry smiled broadly as Draco handed him a large paper cup of black steaming-hot filter coffee from a small independent coffee shop, they both liked, near Diagon Alley.

As he took it, he purposefully let fingers brush against Draco’s and leant close to place a chaste kiss on his cheek. He lingered longer than strictly necessary and much to his delight Draco’s cheeks pinked just a little — it was barely noticeable but Harry paid more attention to Draco’s reactions than most people would.

Draco’s shy smile was quite endearing; it made his heart skip a beat and the butterflies in his stomach flutter with excitement. The Prophet’s young journalist gave an embarrassed little cough and Harry took a moment to school his expression into one of casual nonchalance.

Once ready, he turned to face her and gave her his sweetest smile. He boldly held her gaze until she blushed and then strode over to the comfortable-looking well-worn two-seater sofa in the corner of her small office.

Harry didn’t wait for an invitation, instead, he took the liberty to sit in the centre of the sofa. It made it virtually impossible for her to take a seat next to him and leaning back, he casually sipped his coffee and eyed the young brunette woman curiously.

He suspected that she had graduated Hogwarts less than three or four years ago. She had a youthful look about her but didn’t seem to have a lot of experience. Still, her eyes were bright and she looked smart.

 _Ravenclaw_ , he mused, then glanced around the room and noted a blue and silver picture frame on her desk that confirmed his suspicion. He almost felt sorry for what he was about to put her through and at once a new plan formed in his mind.

“Harry, it’s a pleasure that you’ve found a bit of time in your busy schedule for this inter—”

Harry interrupted her at once.

“That’ll be _Director Potter_ for you, Miss—?”

“Egan, Director Potter, Miss Egan,” she said.

She blushed a lovely shade of red and nervously shuffled from one foot to the other.

“Very well, _Miss Egan_. Are you planning to stand for the entirety of the interview or will you be taking a seat?” Harry asked.

 _You may also kneel if that is your preferred position_ , a cheeky voice in his head added and glancing sideways he smiled at Draco, who was still standing by the door, quietly sipping his own coffee.

“Come sit with me, love,” he said.

He beckoned Draco over to sit beside him on the sofa.

Draco hesitated for the longest time but Harry charmed him with a slightly tilted head, a sassy smile, a quirked eyebrow, and a very intense stare.

It had the desired effect.

Draco gave an inaudible sigh and relented. Harry made room for him and as he sat down beside him, he took Draco’s hand and laced their fingers together. He placed his right ankle on his left thigh, just above the knee, and pulled Draco’s hand into his lap, possessively keeping it there, close to him, so that Draco could feel the warmth of his body. He felt a bit of mild resistance but instead of paying any heed to it, he turned his attention back to the journalist, who had dragged her office chair out from behind her desk and rolled it over to them.

“Before you take your seat, Miss Egan, a question if you please,” Harry spoke up and pausing, the young journalist nodded.

“Certainly, Director Potter,” she said.

“I would have thought that Miss Skeeter would want to conduct the interview herself. Is there any reason she’s not present? I did agree to an exclusive interview with The Prophet; however, it seems to me that your publication is not treating me with the respect I deserve given my senior position at the Ministry and my involvement in the second wizarding war. If this is the case and The Prophet is not interested in an exclusive interview with me, I wonder whether it might be more appropriate for me to have this conversation with another publication,” Harry said with a cool superiority he usually reserved for conducting interrogations or thoroughly scaring his Auror trainees.

To his complete delight, Miss Egan blushed an even darker shade of red than before.

“Erm, Miss Skeeter did prepare— S—she wrote a list of questions f—for me to go through with you but— but thought it best, I mean, t—the editor-in-chief suggested, you know, given your l—less than amicable history— we— I mean The Prophet thought it b—best that— that I con— conduct the interview with you,” Miss Egan stammered her way through her answer.

Harry smiled.

 _Gotcha_ _,_ he thought.

He gave Draco’s hand a gentle squeeze.

“You know what, Miss Egan, I would very much appreciate if Miss Skeeter and your editor-in-chief were present for this interview. Would you be so kind as to fetch them? And while you’re at it, bring a photographer too. We’re about to have such a memorable afternoon, it would be a shame not to have photographic proof of it all, don’t you think?” Harry said.

He gave her a pointed look, making sure that Miss Egan knew that he wasn’t asking so much as telling her what he wanted to happen.

She was smart enough to get the message and flustered, she excused herself, then practically fled the room.

Draco chuckled softly.

“You’re worse than any Slytherin I’ve ever met, Harry Potter,” he said.

Harry laughed.

“Draco Malfoy, _this_ was nothing. Watch and see.”

Less than twenty minutes later, Harry found himself sitting on an extremely comfortable black leather sofa in The Prophet’s editor-in-chief’s spacious and opulently decorated office on the top floor of the building.

Draco still sat beside him and his hand once again rested on Harry’s thigh.

Harry had placed his own above it to provide reassurance and let Draco know that he had everything under control. Still, didn’t need to look at Draco to know that he was thoroughly uncomfortable with the situation.

Draco did not want to be here; he clearly felt exposed and absolutely expected the worst. Harry wished he could tell him that he had nothing to worry about, that he had everything under control but he didn’t think he really needed to. Draco had enjoyed a remarkable, albeit less than perfect, upbringing and his exquisite ability to self-preserve meant that his protective mask was firmly in place and he kept his emotions locked away behind a thick defensive wall. He was an extremely gifted Occlumens and though he never used it when they were together, Harry was aware that Draco regularly used it to keep himself focused when he was arguing a case in the courtrooms of the Wizengamot. He didn’t blame him. It made perfect sense to utilise the full spectrum of his talents.

Across from Harry and Draco sat Miss Egan, Rita Skeeter and The Prophet’s editor-in-chief, Barnabas Cuffe.

A photographer had set up his tripod and camera and already snapped several photographs of him and Draco.

The atmosphere in the room was tense, a fact Harry derived an immense amount of pleasure from.

He felt relaxed and oddly at ease.

For once, he was in control. He was not the boy Rita Skeeter remembered. Since his return to Britain, he’d mostly managed to avoid the press and only engaged with them when it was necessary but these people had deliberately dragged Draco’s name through the mud and Harry wasn’t going to stand for it.

 _Payback time, Skeeter,_ he thought, sourly remembering all the times she had made him feel like an insecure idiot. Not today. Today she’d not get the satisfaction of treating him like he was a complete imbecile.

“Shall we get started then?”

Harry asked the question with an impression of boyish insouciance and at once wrinkled his nose when Rita Skeeter summoned her Quick-Quotes Quill and a leather-bound notebook.

Feigning a sneeze, Harry apologised profusely for his rudeness.

“Miss Skeeter, I’m terribly sorry to say but I’m—,” Harry paused to fake another sneeze, “I’m seriously allergic to the scent of ink from those Quick-Quotes Quills. It’s so bad I’ve had to ban them from my department. I must insist that you transcribe the interview by hand or else I’ll be forced to cancel in favour of a trip to St Mungo’s and as my calendar is rather full at the moment, I don’t know when I’ll find another opening for a formal sit-down with The Prophet.”

“Skeeter, put that quill away, _now_ ,” Barnabas Cuffe hissed.

Glaring sourly, Rita Skeeter dutifully banished her favourite Quick-Quotes Quill to her poison-green crocodile-leather handbag. Harry could tell that she wanted to tell him that it was impossible to be allergic to Quick-Quotes Quills but it was plainly evident that she valued her job more than a frivolous argument with the Head of the Auror Department who happened to also be none other than Harry Potter himself.

“Take notes, girl!” she said with a snappy snarl, taking her unhappiness out on a junior colleague — Harry hadn’t expected anything else.

Rita Skeeter thrust her notebook at poor Miss Egan. She then fixed him with a sweet smile; he knew was supposed to make him uncomfortable.

Instead of letting her get to him like she had when he had been a young boy, he calmly finished his coffee and leant forward to place the empty paper cup on the low table in front of him. He leant back, squeezed Draco’s hand gently, then casually rested his other hand on the backrest of the sofa. Harry returned Skeeter’s sweet smile with an equally sweet one of his own and delighted in the flicker of confusion on her face.

 _Showtime,_ he thought gleefully. _Bring it on, beetle._

“Harry—” Skeeter started.

Harry clicked his tongue disapprovingly and raised an eyebrow at her.

“Director Potter,” he corrected.

Skeeter pursed her lips.

“Surely you don’t expect such formalities, _Harry_ , we’ve known each other since you were _fourteen_ ,” she said.

She was clearly trying her very best to keep her tone calm and her voice even.

Harry regarded her for several minutes, then moved to stand, making it blatantly obvious that he was about to cut the exclusive interview short by walking out of the editor-in-chief’s office.

Barnabas Cuffe instantly jumped to his feet.

He glared at Skeeter and coughed to clear his throat.

“Director Potter, please accept my sincere apologies!”

Cuffe looked positively flustered and thoroughly scared.

“I don’t know what has come over my most trusted and experienced journalist. She will of course address you with your title. You have certainly earned it and The Prophet prides itself on professionalism, always.”

He turned to fix his beady eyes on Skeeter and pulled a handkerchief from his waistcoat to wipe his sweaty forehead.

“I accept your apologies, Mr Cuffe.”

Harry smiled. He bit back a sarcastic comment about the Prophet and professionalism and relaxed back into the sofa cushions behind him instead.

“ _Rita_ , your first question, please?”

“Of course, _Director Potter_.”

Skeeter spat his title at him as though it was a spoonful of vile medicine, she didn’t want to swallow, and Harry winked at her. He took a quick glance at Draco and caught the sly smirk in his eyes. It was all he needed to see to know that Draco’s respect for him had just increased tenfold.

“Well, Director Potter, how long have you and Mr Malfoy been in a relationship?”

Skeeter’s question distracted Harry from continuing to swoon over Draco, which he decided he would continue to do right after he finished defending Draco’s honour and restoring the good name, he had made for himself through several years of hard work.

“March this year, give or take a few weeks,” Harry answered.

“Give or take?” Skeeter asked. “Are you and Mr Malfoy pulling some elaborate stunt to show the wizarding world that you are still building bridges, _Director Potter_?”

She glowered and the pleasure Harry derived from her discomfort gave him a rush.

“We didn’t immediately formalise things.”

Harry smiled.

“I should think you, _Rita_ , are familiar with the laws of courtship. Especially traditional pureblood courtship customs. And I can tell you that I thoroughly enjoyed courting Draco. I am a firm believer in building a strong foundation with the person I have romantic feelings for. Going on dates with the very person you fancy is an incredible rush, an intense high.”

Harry paused for a moment to squeeze Draco’s hand and turned his head to smile at him.

“I absolutely enjoyed getting to know Draco, finding out all the little things about him, what he likes, what he dislikes, what makes him the person he is. For example, on one occasion Draco and I spent an afternoon at the zoo and, would you believe it, I discovered that he shares my intense dislike of bugs, especially little green beetles. What do you know; that afternoon we had the best conversation.”

Skeeter pursed her lips and scowled; she looked like she was ready to draw her wand and hex him into oblivion.

She opened her mouth to say something but Harry was just that little bit faster and forced her to close her mouth and listen instead.

“I can assure you, _Rita_ , Draco’s and my relationship is by no means a publicity stunt of any kind and you insinuating that it is, well, quite frankly it is hurtful to hear. However, I trust that you did not mean to insult me or Draco in such an underhanded way. That would be entirely beneath a serious publication such as The Prophet, am I correct?”

“Absolutely, Director Potter.”

Cuffe cut in with a vigorous nod and Harry inclined his head in polite acknowledgement. He quirked an eyebrow at Rita Skeeter, silently daring her to disagree with him after her boss had so enthusiastically supported him.

“You are most certainly correct, Director Potter,” Skeeter said quietly and through gritted teeth, while she carefully folded her hands in her lap.

Her demeanour was calm and collected but her eyes spoke a different language. She glared deadly daggers at Harry, who smirked and winked at her.

“When did you and Draco—”

“Prosecutor Malfoy, _Rita_.”

Harry corrected her without batting an eyelid. Her eyes bulged and she spluttered, clasped her hands tightly and swallowed a truly sour expression.

She struggled to contain her emotions for a moment, then reluctantly rephrased her question.

“When did you and Prosecutor Malfoy formalise your relationship?”

Harry wondered how much further he could push her before she exploded right into his face.

“That would have been his birthday earlier this year. I straight out popped the question.”

“You— you are engaged?”

Skeeters eyes gleamed, she was clearly fishing for an even bigger story than he was giving her, and Harry laughed.

“No, _Rita_ , you misunderstood, seems to be a perpetual habit of yours. Very unfortunate. I asked Draco to be my boyfriend. I don’t think he would have agreed to marry me after only three months of courtship,” he said.

He felt Draco gently squeeze his thigh and glanced sideways to meet Draco’s eyes. He held his gaze for a few moments, then lifted his hand, brought it up to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of Draco’s hand.

Draco blushed a little and with a smile, Harry placed Draco’s hand back in his lap and laced their fingers together, making sure that his thumb rested above Draco’s.

Draco tugged gently, but Harry did not allow him to pull back. He could tell Draco didn’t really want to either, he was just mildly embarrassed about the overly public display of affection — it made Harry love him just that little bit more.

“Is there a reason, why you haven’t come out to the public about your relationship?” Skeeter asked.

Harry turned his attention back to her but took his sweet time answering her question.

If she was at all vexed, she hid it well.

For now, anyway.

Harry absolutely intended to change that.

“I wasn’t aware that I was under any obligation to share the details of my private life with the entire wizarding world, however, I do understand that due to my involvement in the defeat of Voldemort,” Harry paused for effect and delighted in the way Skeeter, Cuffe and Miss Egan all flinched at his mention of the name of one of the darkest wizard in history, “the public has certainly taken a keen interest in all aspects of my personal life. As such, I concede, I should have probably come out sooner. Sadly, a scrupulous photographer, who cowardly wishes to remain anonymous, took that opportunity away from me and instead of coming out to the public out of my own volition, every single news publishing agency in Wizarding Britain decided it was acceptable to go ahead and print a series of nasty articles, filled with rumours, lies and false accusations about me and my partner without asking me for a formal statement prior to publication.”

Harry fell silent and uncomfortable silence settled over the room.

After a few minutes, Barnabas Cuffe cleared his throat, shuffled in his chair, and reached for a glass of water.

“Director Potter, on behalf of The Prophet, I would like to take this opportunity to formally apologise to you for not taking the time to contact you to discuss the news of your romantic involvement with—”

“Did you plan to come out formally, _Director Potter_?”

Skeeter boldly cut her boss off mid-sentence.

“All photographs of you and Prosecutor Malfoy were taken in Muggle London. To me, that seems like you were planning to keep your relationship a secret to protect your public image.”

“Whatever are you insinuating, _Rita_?” Harry asked coldly but calmly.

He felt Draco tense beside him but he was determined not to lose his cool and indulge Rita Skeeter of all people. He could tell that she was waiting for him to blow up and he had no intention of giving her that pleasure.

 _If anyone is going to blow up, it will be you_ , he thought with glee.

“Just that your choice of partner is surprising, especially given _your_ history as well as his. It is understandable you may have wished for people to remain in the dark about this little affair of yours,” Skeeter said snidely and with a false smirk.

She looked as if she thought she had won the jackpot and Harry mentally rubbed his hands together as he prepared to rip her a new one with a scathing response.

“An affair? We are all but five minutes into this conversation, and you just can’t help yourself, can you, _Rita_?” Harry asked and fixing his eyes on her, he decided to channel his inner Severus Snape.

Skeeter squirmed in her seat and when she tried to look away, Harry clicked his tongue, then silently dared her to try and look away after all.

“Tell me, _Rita_ , this unquenchable desire of yours to twist the truth and lie to the public, does it give you pleasure? If so, then I am utterly disappointed in you and The Prophet has lost all my respect, for good. Let me put it on record, Draco and I are not having an affair. I am very much in love with him and we are in a loving relationship. If you—”

“He’s a Death Eater, he’s _Marked_! He consorted with You-Know-Who!”

Skeeter practically screeched and Harry only barely managed to bite back a smirk.

 _Oh, you didn’t,_ he thought and wondered whether she thought insulting Draco in front of him could make him lose his temper.

He felt Draco tense further, felt his fingernails dig into his skin, and reassuringly squeezed his hand.

 _I’ve got this, my little prince, I’ll take care of you, always_.

“I was wondering when you were going to bring that up.”

Harry paused and smiled.

“Let me make one thing very clear here. In May 1998, I swore under oath and in front of the entire Wizengamot that Draco Malfoy and his mother were not involved in Battle of Hogwarts and since I was there and you were not, I wonder whose account of that night is more reliable, yours or mine?”

Harry held Rita Skeeter’s gaze and when she opened her mouth, he shot her down with an icy glare that seriously rivalled those Draco used to throw at him across the Great Hall.

“I could tell you what happened the night Draco took the Mark, but I don’t think it’s my place to do so. I know the whole story and if Draco would like to share it with the public, so be it, but I will not be the person to do so. I will, however, tell you that Minister Shacklebolt’s decision to issue him a full pardon was based on his recount of that night and his admission of his subsequent wrong choices. And before you suggest that I used my involvement in the war to plead Draco’s case to the Minister, I did not. By the time Minister Shacklebolt made that decision, I had already left the country.”

Harry took a moment to reach for an empty glass and a water carafe and pouring himself a glass of water he emptied it with one large gulp.

“You proclaim to be a journalist, _Rita_ , yet you haven’t done any fact-checking prior to this interview. Almost everything I told you, you could have easily found out on your own. All you have been doing since Draco and I walked into the room is to throw around false accusations and dredge up the past.”

Harry sighed and sitting back, he reached for Draco’s hand, which he had temporarily let go of, and squeezed it gently. It felt a little clammy and Draco looked a little pale and Harry had every intention of kissing him senseless just as soon as he finished righting a few wrongs.

“Skeeter, I think it’s best we take your name off that exclusive interview with Director Potter,” Cuffe said meekly.

He wiped his very sweaty brow with his handkerchief.

“I also think it would be best if you left my office and possibly also the building.”

Harry watched as Skeeter slowly rose to her feet and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Are you firing me?” she asked flatly.

“No, Rita, Mr Cuffe here is not firing you, don’t believe for one moment that you’re not still an asset to The Prophet. However, I think a few months of covering court cases would do you good and perhaps help you find some perspective,” Harry said before Barnabas Cuffe had the chance to answer her question.

“And if I may give you a piece of unsolicited advice; the fastest way to get sued for libel by a member of the bar is to get your facts wrong,” Harry added with a devilish smirk.

Skeeter gave him an icy glare and turning on her heel, she left her editor-in-chief’s office with a flourish of her harlequin-green robes and slammed the door behind her.

“Erm—”

Barnabas Cuffe cleared his throat and his eyes darted nervously around the room.

“I will, of course, take your advice, Director Potter. Miss Skeeter will start her assignment with our legal news reporting department this afternoon.”

“Fantastic. I gather the lovely Miss Egan here will be put in charge of writing up and publishing my interview?” Harry asked.

He slowly got to his feet and Draco rose with him, as did Cuffe and Miss Egan.

Cuffe nodded.

“Absolutely. And I can assure you, I will fact-check every word of her article.”

Harry smiled.

“Oh, Barnabas, I don’t think that’ll be necessary, I trust Miss Egan is more than capable of getting her facts right, isn’t that so, Miss Egan?” Harry asked and flashed the young journalist a dashing smile.

She flushed crimson and nervously shuffled from one foot to the other as she tried to stop her notebook and quill from dropping to the floor.

“C— Certainly, D— Director Po— Potter.”

“Enough with the formalities already, call me Harry.”

“R— Ro— Rose Egan.”

“ _Rose_. What a lovely name, Miss Egan, it suits you very well.”

“Th— Thank you, it was my grandmother’s name.”

Rose smiled brightly and finally relaxed somewhat. Harry vowed to send her a large bouquet of flowers to make up for flustering her and giving her a hard time.

“May I ask just one last question before you leave, Harry?”

Harry smiled and nodded.

“Ask away,” he said.

He let go of Draco’s hand and put his arm his waist instead.

“I hope you won’t find this question too private and of course you may refuse to answer, but I was just wondering, what made you fall in love with Dra— Prosecutor Malfoy?”

Harry chuckled.

“That question, Rose, is just perfect,” he said.

“And the answer is a million and one tiny little things. For starters, the way he smiles at me and only me. It makes me go weak at the knees. His obsession with desserts and the way he does his job, his complete professionalism. And then there is his sense of humour. This man here, Rose, this man can make me laugh for days with just a look. He’s also a fantastic cook and he loves animals, especially dogs. Anyone who rolls around the grass in designer clothes just to please a dog can’t be a bad person, right?”

Rose smiled.

“No, they can’t. Thank you, Harry, that’s all I wanted to know.”

“You’re wel—”

“He never does anything I don’t want him to do,” Draco suddenly spoke up, surprising Harry. “He respects me, always. That’s what I love about Harry, in case you were going to ask me next.”

“What you just said there, I can see it in the way he acts around you and the way he looks at you. You’re a very lucky man, Prosecutor Malfoy,” Rose said.

Harry felt his heart beat just a little faster when Draco snuck both his arms around his waist and snuggled into him.

“Call me Draco,” he said with a smile.

“And I think Harry and I are both very lucky to have found each other.”

“I will. It’s been a pleasure meeting you both.”

Rose smiled.

She offered her hand and Harry shook it.

“Likewise, Rose,” he said.

He winked at her as she shook hands with Draco and she blushed a little, though this time it was a cute sort of blush, not an embarrassed one.

Draco squeezed his side and he yelped.

“Stop flirting, I’m right next to you, you know, Potter.”

Harry laughed.

“Oh, Malfoy, I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

* * *

Less than ten minutes after they’d left the Prophet’s headquarters and were walking down Diagon Alley with the intention to return to Muggle London, Harry suddenly found himself dragged into very narrow side alley that was most definitely not wide enough to allow them both to comfortably walk alongside each other — then again, strolling down that alley did not seem to be what Draco had in mind.

After dragging him about halfway down the alley, Draco pushed him right into a dark recess in the wall and pressed him up against the cold stone, then captured his lips in a fiercely possessive kiss.

Harry groaned.

Draco had thoroughly taken him by surprise and for a short moment, he struggled to sort his thoughts, then brought up his hands and cupped Draco’s cheeks. He slid his fingers through Draco’s hair, twisted them into the soft silken strands of light hair and ardently kissed Draco back.

Draco untwisted his fingers from where he’d tightly wrapped them into his shirt and dropping his hands to his hips, he squeezed them through Harry’s trousers and pushed closer, trapping virtually every inch of Harry between the cold stone wall and his warm toned body.

Amused at Draco’s sudden assertiveness and unable to find anything wrong with it, Harry relaxed back against the bricks behind him and allowed Draco to kiss him within an inch of his life. Draco’s tongue found its way into his mouth and as it toyed with his own tongue, Harry disentangled his fingers from Draco’s hair and slid them down his back, grabbing his arse firmly and squeezing it.

Draco mewled into the kiss and rolled his hips, pushing his slowly growing erection firmly into his hip. Harry squeezed his arse cheeks again, then, without barely any effort, he flipped them around so that Draco was the one forced to lean back against the wall.

The move broke their kiss and Draco gasped at the sudden lack of contact. Harry brought one of his hand up and with half of his hand resting on the side of Draco’s neck, he brushed his thumb over Draco’s cheek.

“I didn’t know my little prince was such a fierce dragon,” Harry whispered.

He let his lips ghost over Draco’s, inhaled, then exhaled slowly. His breath was hot and he felt Draco shudder as it caressed his slightly parted lips and parts of his cheek.

“You—”

Draco started to say something but broke off and let out a content little sigh instead.

Harry smiled.

“Me?” he prompted when Draco did not continue to articulate himself any further.

“You’re fucking hot, Potter.”

Harry chuckled, then pressed a kiss to Draco’s lips.

“Hm, I don’t quite understand why you had to drag me down an alley and pin me to a brick wall to tell me that but I’m most definitely not complaining. Not after that kiss.”

Draco huffed out an air of breath, though it wasn’t in annoyance but rather because he was trying to suppress a bout of soft laughter that had bubbled up from the depths of his throat.

“I needed to show you too,” he said. “I mean, the way you handled Skeeter, you properly put her into her place, yet somehow you managed to be so utterly sweet about it— By Circe, Potter, sometimes it’s like I don’t even know you. Seriously, you’re a complete and utter deviant, there’s no other way to describe you. If I didn’t already frequently feel the strong desire to get on my knees for you, I—”

Letting a sly smirk creep onto his face, Harry cut in.

“Just how often is frequently?”

Draco stared at him for a moment, then rolled his eyes.

“Here I am being bold, dragging you off into dark corners to snog you senseless like a desperate sixth-year Hogwarts student, and praising you high and low for the way you stood up for me and _this_ is the first thing your kinky brain latches onto?”

Harry shrugged.

“What can I say, when I’m alone with you my mind just goes to funny places.”

“More like dirty.”

Harry couldn’t help but smirk.

“Those too,” he said, then kissed Draco with the same amount of ferocity Draco had shown him only moments ago.

When he pulled away, a short while later, they were both breathless and despite the lack of light in the alcove, Harry had no problem focusing on Draco’s beautiful silvery-grey eyes, they sparkled like bright diamonds, even in the low light, and he caressed his cheek.

“I love you, my little prince, and anyone who steps on your toes, steps on my toes. I know you aren’t a damsel in distress and I know you can stand up for yourself but whenever you submit to me, whenever you put all your trust in me and let me take control, well, I can’t help but feel fiercely protective of you and I just want to keep you safe. Always, or well, for as long as you let me.”

Draco blinked, stared at him with watery eyes, and Harry watched him trying to swallow past the lump in his throat he’d inadvertently helped create.

“Damn you, Potter,” he whispered. “Why do you have to be so perfect? You make me lose my sanity every time I’m near you.”

Harry smiled.

“I can assure you, Malfoy, I’m not perfect, I’ve got flaws, just like everybody else, but anyone who insults you, insults me too and I won’t stand for that.”

“Hm, yes I think you made that message quite clear today.”

“I should hope so. Let me know when you get the first letter of apology.”

Draco suddenly smirked and a spark of pure slyness flickered in his eyes.

“I’ll have it framed, then I’ll strip naked, put on my Prosecutor’s robes and personally deliver it to your office.”

Harry growled and squeezing Draco’s arse, he pulled him flush against his own body.

“If you do that you won’t be leaving my office until I’ve had my wicked way with you.”

Draco’s eyes gleamed with excitement.

“How are you going to have your wicked away with me, Director Potter?” he asked.

Harry laughed

“That, Prosecutor Malfoy is for me to know and you to fantasise about,” he said.

Draco pulled a face, stuck out his bottom lip in a half-hearted pout, and shook his head.

“Want to know,” he insisted. “Please, Director Potter, please. Pretty, pretty please.”

Harry only barely managed to suppress another growl. He simply couldn’t resist Draco when he begged, especially not when he was being _this_ shameless about it, and so he leant in, pressed his lips to Draco’s ear and kissed the lobe.

“When you get to my office, you’ll find yourself locked in and pushed against the door, much like I’m doing now. I’ll take that framed apology letter from you, then fasten your collar around your neck and for a while all I’ll do is distract you with kisses while I play with your collar and let my hand slip under your robes to check whether you’re all nice and hard for me.”

Harry paused and mirroring his words, he pushed his hand between both their bodies and pressed his palm against the length of Draco’s half-hard cock. It twitched underneath his touch and Harry felt it harden further.

“Just like this, except since you won’t be wearing any clothes, I’ll have so much better access, won’t I, Prosecutor Malfoy?”

Draco shuddered and tried bucking his hips but Harry kept him firmly pinned to the alcove’s brick wall.

“Y—yes, Sir, Director Potter.”

Draco exhaled. His laboured breathing was a delight to listen to and a low whine escaped past his lips when Harry squeezed his cock, teasing it further.

“I think I’ll just stroke you for a while, perhaps even until you beg me to come. Then I’ll lead you over to my desk, which you’ll find empty. You’ll also find a set of restraints attached to it. I’m going to make you crawl on top of it and after you get on all fours, I’ll restrain you. You may keep your arms folded in front of you so that you can rest your head comfortably. As for your legs, I’ll pull them apart nicely and restrain these too, then with that nice pale arse of yours up in the air, what do _you_ think I should do with you now?”

Draco whimpered and tried thrusting into the palm of Harry’s hand.

Harry clicked his tongue.

“My fantasy, be still, Prosecutor Malfoy, or we’ll continue this conversation down in the holding cells where I’ll strip you naked and tie you to the steel bars so that your tight hole is nicely pressed up against one.”

“Fuck,” Draco breathed and let out a soft moan.

“Hm, eventually, though only if you’re good.”

“I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Will you now?” Harry teased.

He nibbled on Draco’s earlobe and blew a breath of hot air over the wet sensitive flesh.

“I know how much you enjoy a good spanking, Prosecutor Malfoy, and with you in those sinful black silken robes of yours, and tied to my desk, it’d be an absolute shame not to start with that to get you all warmed up.”

“Yes, please, fuck, Harry, please.”

Draco continued to plead without as much as an ounce of shame.

“That’s Director Potter for you, _Malfoy_.”

“Director Potter,” Draco whispered, whimpering softly when Harry squeezed his now fully-erect cock through his trousers.

“That’s much better but slip up again and you will pay the price, of that you can be sure.”

“I won’t, Sir, I won’t, I promise.”

“Such obedience, I do love it how easy it is to turn you into this desperate whimpering mess.”

Harry hummed against Draco’s ear, then continued to drive him absolutely wanton with his voice alone.

“A good spanking should get you properly excited and with your arse stinging so very nicely you most definitely won’t be opposed to sucking on my cock and worshipping it until I let you taste my come, this is if you beg me for it.”

Draco groaned and Harry felt him slide an inch or two down the brick wall. He promptly steadied him.

“I’ll need a bit of time to recover from that because, Prosecutor Malfoy, anyone who’s got that sharp a tongue and is this skilled in the courtroom absolutely gives excellent head.”

Harry gave Draco’s cock another firm squeeze and Draco buried his face in his neck, muffling a loud groan.

“I’m nothing if not benevolent, Prosecutor Malfoy. If you please me, I’ll please you in return, so while I recover, I think I’ll just rim you until you’re seeing stars, perhaps even give you a couple of prostate orgasms while I’m at it.”

“You’re evil, Director Potter.”

Harry chuckled.

“You love it.”

“I can’t object to that,” Draco mumbled.

He pressed a kiss to Harry’s neck and Harry bit his earlobe in response, then flicked his tongue over it to soothe the light sting.

“Fuck, Draco, you have no idea how much I want to fuck you while you wear those robes.”

“You have no idea how much I want you to fuck me _right now_.”

Draco’s sassy retort made Harry chuckle, then pull back a little. He looked straight into Draco’s eyes, which were dark and burning with desire and gave his cock another squeeze.

“That can absolutely be arranged. Fetch those robes from the Ministry and I’ll meet you at your place in half an hour.”

Draco raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’ve got a clean set at home, we can apparate straight over.”

Harry smirked.

“I’ve got to get something from the playroom first, something I know you’ll like.”

Draco’s eyes dilated a little further and he let out a low moan.

“You’ll be the death of me, Potter, I swear you will.”

“Ah no, don’t you worry. You’re my precious little prince, I’ll keep you safe.”

“Just not sane.”

Harry laughed.

“Yes, well, I can’t be expected to be responsible for absolutely everything now, can I?”

“Debatable, Potter, debatable.”

“On second thought, I think I’ll bring the riding crop too. You’re a tad bit naughty, I think you could benefit from a little bit of discipline.”

Draco’s eyes widened instantly and he shook his head.

“No.”

“No, what?” Harry asked.

“Not the riding crop.”

“Why not?”

At that question, Draco flushed crimson and averted his eyes. Moving a single finger underneath Draco’s chin, Harry pushed it up and coaxed Draco into looking at him.

“Why not?” he asked again, his voice soft and gentle.

“ _Ngh_ ,” Draco grumbled, clearly reluctant to answer.

Harry reminded him that it was only them and that there was no need to feel embarrassed about anything.

Draco hemmed and hawed for a minute or so, then finally let out a long breath of surrender.

“I want your hand,” he whispered.

“You want me to spank you with just my hand?”

Draco nodded and attempted to look away but Harry wouldn’t let him.

“You’ve asked for it before, why so coy about it now?”

“ _Ngh_ , Potter, can’t you ever let anything go?”

Harry chuckled.

“Nope, not when your body language tells me that you want me to get this out of you.”

“Do I?”

“Don’t you?” Harry pushed.

He leant close and pressed his lips to Draco’s ear.

“You’ve got a safeword. If you absolutely don’t want to tell me, use it.”

Pulling back, Harry looked very close and when Draco’s eyes did not flicker but he confidently held his gaze, he smiled triumphantly.

“Out with it then, my little prince.”

Draco blushed again, though not quite as furious as before and for a while, he looked at the floor and shuffled his feet, then he cleared his throat and slowly lifted his gaze.

“A couple of days ago, when this whole madness started. Do you remember what you said to be before you left for the Ministry?”

Harry smiled softly, then nodded.

“Of course. I told you to be good or you’d get that spanking after all.”

“ _Imayhavehadawankafteryouleft_.”

Draco forced the words out, speaking very fast and without stopping for air.

Harry chuckled.

“And you think I didn’t know that?” he asked.

Draco’s eyes widened in an instant, then narrowed as he frowned.

It took Harry quite a bit of willpower not to kiss him senseless. There was something about the way Draco still struggled to comprehend that Harry could read him quite well that just drove him crazy with want.

“You couldn’t possibly have known that.”

Harry smirked.

He leant close, kissed Draco on the lips, then murmured his next words straight into his ear.

“There was a small white stain on your trousers, my love. I figured you had a bit of fun on your own just after I left.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Should I have? I was rather enjoying the fact that you were so nonchalant about it and didn’t have a clue that I knew.”

“I want to simultaneously kick and kiss you.”

“Go for it, my little prince, anywhere but the balls,” Harry said.

His eyes twinkled with mirth and he kissed Draco before he could make the first move.

“But just so you know, if you do decide to kick me, you will get that spanking right here, right now. I’ll flip you over, yank those trousers down and treat you like the naughty disobedient little brat that you are.”

Harry idle threat had the desired effect; Draco shuddered and placing both hands on either side of Draco’s head, Harry braced himself on the wall and held Draco’s gaze.

“I have the feeling there’s more to your confession, my little prince. Come on, out with it already.”

Draco whimpered softly and moved his hands to rest them just above Harry’s hips, squeezing a little. He flushed, cleared his throat, and focused on the top button of Harry’s shirt.

“While— When I was—”

“While you were getting yourself off, you what?”

Harry helped Draco along and to make it a little easier, he caressed his cheek softly and gave him a warm smile.

“I was— I couldn’t— I kept— I was thinking about— you know— what— what you said about being good and— and—”

“You kept imagining me walking in on you, catching you being naughty and putting you over my knee.”

“Fuck yes,” Draco groaned.

He lifted his gaze a little and looked right at Harry.

“I can’t stop thinking about, I really can’t. I— I want it so bad.”

Harry couldn’t deny that the idea of walking in on Draco pleasuring himself and punishing him for it rather excited him and deciding that actions spoke louder than words, he responded with a fierce kiss. He plunged his tongue right into Draco’s mouth, kissed him fervently and until they were both just a little breathless. Then he pulled away, cupped Draco’s cheeks with both hands, and looked deep into his eyes. They were almost black now and shining with such desire that Harry struggled to stop himself from apparating them both straight to his playroom.

It would be so easy to continue that conversation in a place where he had access to countless toys and a wide array of other props as well as all his exquisite bondage furniture. But this wasn’t about getting his way, this was about fulfilling Draco’s fantasy. This was about giving Draco a taste of what it felt like if he went against his Master’s wishes and so Harry inhaled deeply, pushed his own desires straight down and focused on Draco and only Draco.

“Change of plans my little prince,” he whispered.

He delighted in the way Draco trembled and how his eyes nervously darted back and forth as he started to shuffle again. Harry felt him squeeze his hips just that little bit tighter and although Draco’s grip was just on the edge of uncomfortable, he let him get away with it. Instead, he gave Draco another reassuring kiss, then smiled softly and leaning in, he pressed his lips to Draco’s ear.

“My sweet little prince. I want you to go straight home now. Have a nice relaxing shower, I’ll give you exactly forty minutes for that. No clothes, stay naked. After that, you might want to get comfortable on your bed and indulge in that fantasy of yours. You might even want to touch yourself, fist your cock, finger yourself, whatever takes your fancy… _However_ , do keep in mind that you’ve keyed me into the wards and that I could appear at any time and if I find you being naughty in my absence, I’ll make sure that your gorgeous behind throbs and thrums all night.”

Draco gasped, then let out a low whimper.

“Harry—”

“Do you want to play, my little prince?”

“Yes, Sir, yes, please.”

“Then go, my sweet little prince, the clock starts now.”

Harry extracted himself from Draco and standing back he casually leant against the wall opposite of Draco and crossed his arms over his chest. The air between them was thick, crackling with excitement and a fiery sort of sexual tension that made Harry want to take Draco right here, right now.

Several minutes of absolute silence past between them and eventually Draco managed to get his bearing about him. He shuffled, straightened up and with one last long look at Harry, he disapparated on the spot and Harry couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

When Draco had dragged him down the alley, he’d expected some heated snogging, perhaps even some groping, and then them both apparating to either Draco’s flat or Grimmauld Place for some afternoon delight. What he hadn’t expected had been a seriously kinky conversation about fantasies and Draco’s confession that he wanted Harry to walk in on him having a wank and then punish him for being naughty.

Harry tsked, shook his head and moving away from the wall, he dusted himself off and glanced at his wristwatch. He had plenty of time to kill before he was going to walk in on Draco and decided to get a coffee as well as a box of muffins for his two secretaries. He thoroughly intended to use the sweet treat to butter them up until they kindly agreed to help him schedule meetings with the editor-in-chief of every other wizarding newspaper and magazine that had printed, and was still printing, unfavourable articles about Draco.

He’d promised Draco retractions and apology letters and he intended to make good on his word. There was no way he was going to allow the press to have a field day and waltz all over his relationship and Draco’s reputation. No, for that he’d given too much of himself for too long. He’d spent seven years of his life trying to avoid getting murdered by Voldemort and five years, nearly six, healing and discovering what kind of person he really was and wanted to be and he had no intention of letting anyone take his happiness away from him. He’d earnt it and he intended to make that abundantly clear. If the wizarding world thought him untouchable than Draco, just like the rest of his family, would be too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’re feeling hot and bothered, you’re welcome.
> 
> Harry accepts appointments, however only if you agree to let Draco watch.
> 
> I accept coffee kudos, always. The more the better...and merrier.
> 
> I’ll have another update for you on **_Saturday_**.


	37. I'll Take Care Of You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)  
> 
> 
> Right, let's get the important things down first.
> 
>  **Warning 1:** This chapter may or may not pose a choking hazard, so _do not_ consume hot or cold beverages while reading - if you do, I accept no responsibility for your subsequent trip to the ER, however, I will provide aftercare if you wish.  
>  **Warning 2:** If you crave a spanking after this chapter, I will consider it a _Mission Accomplished_.  
>  **Warning 3:** If you feel hot and bothered after reading this chapter, I will also consider it a _Mission Accomplished_.  
>  **Warning 4:** The eye candy at the end of the chapter, while not explicitly sexual in nature, is still decidedly NSFW.
> 
> I can't think of any other warnings to issue in advance of reading this chapter, however if you have any further thoughts on the matter, drop me a note. I will respond to comments just as soon as I get more edits done ( _in the meantime, please bask in the knowledge that I love and appreciate you very much_ ) and I will quite possibly humbly offer you another chapter on **Monday**.
> 
>  _ **K,**_ I have only one thing to say to you and that is that you are gold, more precious than that even. This simply needs to be said often and preferably every day. Thank you for being my voice of reason when I need it, the driving force behind this story, my guide and continuously willing guinea pig, and a firm hand when I get bratty.
> 
>  **To My Faithful Readers:** You are such wonderful souls, you truly make my heart flutter. Your comments and your love for this story is precious. Thank you for taking this journey with me, you have no idea how much happiness you bring me every day. You have quite literally changed my life.
> 
> As always, coffee is the essence of life, and I, therefore, accept coffee kudos with much gratitude. Please know that they contribute to my sanity.

* * *

* * *

>   ** _“He Makes Me Laugh For Days!”_**
> 
> **_  
>  _**After a vicious intrusion into his privacy that resulted in Harry Potter (27), current Director of the British Auror Department and Assistant Director of the British Department of Magical Law Enforcement, recently found his, previously private, relationship with Draco Malfoy, WC, Esq. (27), Senior Barrister-At-Law for the Prosecuting Counsel of Wizarding Britain's High Court of Law splashed across the countries’ newspapers.
> 
> Notably aggrieved, though completely professional and composed, over the lack of respect — _“Given my involvement in the Second Wizarding War, I’ve come to accept that I’m a figure of public interest, however, it doesn’t warrant having my private affairs aired in the papers like dirty laundry. I honestly expected more from the British Wizarding Press.”_ — Director Potter, accompanied by his partner Draco Malfoy, WC, Esq., still agreed to sit down with the Prophet for an exclusive interview.
> 
> _“What bothered me the most, was the ferocity with which the press instantly condemned Draco; how suddenly none of his achievements as an esteemed member of the Wizard Council, he earnt through continuous hard work, seemed to matter anymore. It felt like we’d suddenly all taken a Time Turner back in time to before the end of the war when speculation and mistrust was ripe. All the press had to say about the person I love, all they did was to dredge up the past. It absolutely broke my heart. Once again, I was painted the Golden Boy while every journalist in the country basically told the public that Draco was the devil.”_
> 
> It is easy to see why Harry Potter is absolutely smitten with his new love and how the feeling is mutual. While the two of them hardly exchanged a word during the duration of the interview except for a bit of good-natured bickering towards the end, they share a deep intimacy. There’s a beautiful familiarity between them that one simply cannot fake, one that was built on mutual respect, love, and trust. There’s a kind of sweetness that hints at new love yet, at the same time, there’s also a certain kind of ease and complete lack of restraint, a comfortableness you generally only see in couples that have been together for many years — _“I can only blame that on our history, we’ve known each other since we were eleven, in fact, the first time we ever met was on my eleventh birthday.”_ — was Director Potter’s response to that while he chuckled with genuine amusement.
> 
> When asked what about Draco Malfoy, WC, Esq. first attracted him, Director Potter answered without thinking twice — _“A chance meeting, I was entirely unprepared. He was sitting in a coffee shop in Muggle London, completely engrossed in his work, and he looked so perfectly out of place yet utterly at ease and weirdly enough, like he belonged, and yes, I realise this doesn’t make much sense. It piqued my curiosity instantly.”_
> 
> Their unexpected meet cute resulted in several months of flirtatious banter, a few adventurous dates — _“I wanted to do something crazy and memorable, so I took Draco to the zoo for his birthday, which considering that I once accidentally vanished the glass barrier between my cousin and a boa constrictor after he annoyed me, was quite the adventure. I can, however, confirm that all the snakes at London Zoo are accounted for and none are slithering about freely.”_ — and finally, some serious courting that has brought them to where they are now, in love, happy and carefree with both Director Potter’s friends and adopted family and Draco Malfoy’s, WC, Esq. mother supporting their relationship.
> 
> _“I didn’t keep my relationship with Draco quiet because I felt ashamed of it but because I wanted something that belonged to me and only to me. After the war, I needed to leave Britain. I needed time to heal and time to be with the little family I had left. I needed to learn who I was and what I wanted from life and along the way, I got accustomed to a certain level of privacy. Upon my return to London, I absolutely took that for granted. I didn’t even think twice. However, on a lighter note, I also decided to be selfish, quite rightly so. Because, seriously, have you seen this man? Who wouldn’t want to keep him locked up for fear that someone else might want to steal him away?”_
> 
> It is quite unheard of for a member of the bar to hold such a senior position at such a young age, however, Draco Malfoy, WC, Esq. has most definitely earned his title, position, and the respect that comes with it. Following the war, he quietly completed his studies and passed the notoriously difficult bar exam of Wizarding Britain's High Court of Law. Aged only 22 and with qualifications most young wizards can only dream of having, Draco Malfoy’s, WC, Esq. first job was neither lucrative nor fancy; a lowly public defender, yet rarely taking cases himself and mainly engaging in research or case preparation for other, more senior members of the bar. Nevertheless, his work caught the eye of the Chief Warlock of the Prosecuting Counsel, who decided to give a young barrister with big aspirations the chance of a lifetime, one Draco Malfoy, WC, Esq. has treasured ever since.
> 
> Talented, smart, and never afraid to work hard, Draco Malfoy, WC, Esq. earnt his appointment to the honourable Wizard’s Council within the first eighteen months of his promotion. Since then his dedication to his work and his unfaltering professionalism in and out of court has resulted in countless justified post-war verdicts. His colleagues in chambers and fellow members of the bar describe him as _‘absolutely ruthless in court, fair, unbiased, prepared for every eventuality, and the sharpest tongue in the whole of Britain,’_ a description that has made him laugh heartily on more than one occasion.
> 
> Bearing all that in mind, it is no surprise to see what fuels Director Potter’s attraction and has made him fall head over heels in love with the man, however while Draco Malfoy’s, WC, Esq. diligence is one of the reasons that has made Director Potter’s heart melt, it isn’t the only one — _“For starters, the way he smiles at me and only me; it makes me go weak at the knees. His obsession with desserts and his sense of humour. He can make me laugh for days with just a look. He’s also a fantastic cook and he loves animals, especially dogs. If you ask me, anyone who rolls around the grass in designer clothes just to please a dog can’t be a bad person.”_
> 
> In response to Director Potter’s earnest confession, his partner’s thoughts left a profound impression — _“He respects me, always. That’s what I love about Harry.”_ — and is yet further proof that the couple has made a sincere commitment to one another.
> 
> **Author’s Note:** _I would like to personally thank both Mr Harry Potter and Mr Draco Malfoy for taking the time to sit down with me for an exclusive interview. It was an absolute pleasure to witness their affection for each other and I invite everyone to take a close look at the photograph they kindly permitted the Prophet to publish alongside this article. There is no doubt in my mind that Mr Potter is fiercely protective of his partner and that Mr Malfoy is utterly smitten, even though he occasionally tries to hide it. Harry, Draco, I wish you both all the best for the future. **~Rose Egan**_

* * *

* * *

Ginny lowered the newspaper, folded it, and grimaced.

“That article is so sweet, it’s giving me an effing toothache of epic proportions,” she said.

“Especially that last bit about you, Potter, loving a million and one tiny little things about Drake — _he can make me laugh for days_. Merlin, did you drink an entire cauldron of Amortentia before answering that question? You couldn’t come across as more in love if you tried.”

Harry had absolutely expected that Ginny would tease him mercilessly about the article and laughing, he reached for his champagne flute, he tipped it towards Ginny in a silent toast.

“No, Ginevra, I drank something else entirely,” he winked and while Ginny groaned and pulled a face, Ron choked on his pint and spluttered into his glass as he turned red.

Hermione patted him on the back to ease his coughing fit and amidst the mild chaos, Draco’s hand found its way under the table and onto Harry’s thigh. He rested it just above Harry’s knee and squeezed gently.

Feeling rather cheeky, Harry placed his own hand on top of Draco’s, moved it to the centre of his thigh and then pushed it between his legs. He then leant close and rested his chin on Draco’s shoulder, before speaking quietly.

“Be a good boy and keep it right there.”

Draco turned his head slightly to look at him with lust-laden smoky silvery-grey eyes and Harry licked his lips appreciatingly. There was just something utterly thrilling about arousing Draco in places where he could do nothing about it or react appropriately.

“I promised him that I would make sure every single newspaper publication that dragged up his past would issue a formal apology and a retraction.”

Harry continued to talk to Ginny but did not break eye contact with Draco which resulted in Draco swallowing hard and squeezing his thigh.

“And?” Hermione wanted to know.

To that Draco smiled.

“I’ve received a few owls already. Potter here is a man of his words.”

“Those two will get married, mark my words, you guys,” Charlie said loudly.

It was then that Draco broke their eye contact but as Harry had requested, he did not remove their hand.

Harry shuffled in his chair and deliberately sliding closer to the edge of the table, he made sure that Draco’s palm rested snugly against his hardening cock.

Draco gave a little cough but still did not remove his hands.

“Don’t be so bloody presumptuous, Charlie, it’s barely been six months, early days still.”

Harry rolled his eyes and laughed when Charlie gave him a pointed look. He did his best to firmly ignore the warm fuzzy feeling that started spreading from the centre of his chest and woke the butterflies in the pit of his stomach.

“Like I’ve ever been wrong about these things. Take my baby brother, Ronniekins, for instance, the first time I heard him talk about Hermione when we all travelled to Egypt years ago, I knew he’d end up marrying the woman. Then look at you and my baby sister—”

“Funny, you never told me anything about your ability to see into the future.”

Ron grumbled but smiled when Hermione threw an arm around his shoulder and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“You got me, didn’t you?” she asked.

Ron blushed a little and nodded.

“That I did, though I’m still not sure what I did to deserve such a wonderful woman.”

“I can help you out there, brother. You were a dork, as usual. Our ‘Mione has a soft spot for those, especially when they have flaming red hair,” Ginny offered her opinion, then turned her attention to her other brother and continued with an amused chuckle.

“Let’s not go there, _Charles_ , we all know that Potter was temporarily insane and I was under the influence of uncontrollable raging teenage hormones.”

“Will you be taking each other’s names, then?”

Ron surprisingly joined into the banter, smiling at both him and Draco from across the table.

Everyone had clearly made it their mission to gang up against him and Draco tonight and Harry didn’t blame them. The interview with the Prophet had well and truly taken it out of him and he had felt out of sorts for days, however, now that the interview was finally out and he had publicly defended Draco’s honour, breathing felt easy again, or easier anyway.

Harry toasted his best friend with his champagne and Ron raised his pint. They each took a sip and as he set his glass back down, Harry answered Ron’s question with a sly snicker.

“He’ll take mine, of course.”

“Not in a million years!”

Draco scowled, then promptly leant into Harry and continued in a low whisper.

“Considering where you’ve put my hand, I’d be careful with what you say, Potter.”

Harry turned his head and quirked an eyebrow at Draco.

“If you want me to take that riding crop you love so much and turn that gorgeous arse of yours bright red sometime later tonight, go right ahead and squeeze.”

He thoroughly delighted in the way Draco flushed and tried to bite back a whimper.

“Like that image, don’t you, my little prince?”

Harry teased shamelessly but turned his attention back to the conversation when Hermione spoke up.

“Hyphenate,” she simply suggested.

Harry caught Charlie’s knowing look.

It positively screamed _stop-your-fucking-kinky-talk-we’re-having-dinner_ but he merely shrugged and gave Charlie a wicked grin to which Charlie groaned, beckoned one of the waiters over and ordered an entire bottle of Firewhiskey.

“Draco and Harry Potter-Malfoy,” Ginny said.

“Rolls off the tongue quite nicely, don’t you think so, guys?”

Everyone at the table, apart from Harry, who looked amused but didn’t laugh and Draco, who looked rather pained, dissolved into laughter. They laughed so loud that several other patrons in their vicinity turned their heads and threw them curious glances.

“Nice job putting the bossy one first,” Charlie teased.

He turned to look at Draco.

“Or would you like it the other way around?”

Harry could tell it was a blatant challenge and he was intrigued as to how Draco would react to it. Draco’s hand twitched a little between Harry’s legs and the sudden jerk felt nice against his half-hard cock. Harry half expected Draco to finally lose his resolve and pull away but he didn’t.

 _Good boy_ , he thought, pleased with Draco’s silent obedience.

“Well, realistically, _M_ does come before _P_ and traditionally the maiden name should come first when hyphenating names after marriage but since I’m not a fair maiden and will never hear the end of it if I don’t let Potter have his way, I’m quite happy to let Harry go first on that one.”

Draco responded with such complete nonchalance and yet Harry felt his blood run south at the implied meaning behind Draco’s words. While Draco had wrapped up his words quite nicely, he had, in a roundabout but very sweet way, made the promise to relinquish a bit of control.

Charlie laughed.

“Gotta love a man who knows his place.”

The waiter brought over the bottle of Firewhiskey and taking it from him, he opened it expertly.

“Right, everyone, let’s have a toast to the future Mr and Mr Potter-Malfoy.”

“We’re not engaged, Charlie, I won’t be toasting to an engagement that hasn’t happened yet.”

Harry frowned and felt the pressure of Draco’s hand against his thigh in silent agreement.

“Just a matter of time, I know those wedding bells will ring sooner rather than later.”

Charlie gave him a lop-sided grin, then conceded.

“But since we are all into respecting each other’s boundaries, I’ll amend my toast. Let’s drink to a fabulous article and to your wonderful relationship.”

“Can we spare a toast for tiny green beetles too?” Draco asked unexpectedly and Harry had to bite back a smirk at that.

This time it was Hermione’s turn to choke on her drink and grinning at Draco, she gave him the thumbs up.

Harry watched the exchange and thought that given the right amount of time those two could become excellent friends.

Charlie poured each of them a drink, bar Hermione who was still breastfeeding, and they all stood to toast.

Harry elegantly caught Draco’s hand and laced their fingers together before anyone managed to spot that it had been resting in a rather inappropriate place.

Following the toast, Draco politely excused himself from their comfortable rectangular corner table at the refurbished and modernised Leaky Cauldron and Harry positively delighted in the way Draco turned to look at him, silently awaiting his permission.

He inclined his head and with a smile, Draco disappeared into the evening crowd, then turned his head and caught Charlie’s raised eyebrow and knowing that he had witnessed their little power exchange, he shrugged.

Charlie didn’t say anything but smiled, raised his glass of Firewhiskey and tipped it towards him in a silent toast.

The conversation around the table continued and Harry found himself drawn into one of Ginny’s lively tales from a recent Quidditch practice match.

Halfway through the tale, Harry suddenly, and entirely without warning, felt a shudder surge through him and he promptly sat up a little straighter and tried not to squirm. And just like that, there was only one thought on his mind and it consumed him completely.

Instinctively turning around, Harry watched as Draco sure-footed crossed the pub and slid back into his seat next to him with an air of graceful insouciance only Draco Malfoy knew how to master.

His eyes were immediately drawn to Draco’s neck but he had covered it with a designer scarf, he hadn’t been wearing earlier.

Harry frowned.

“Did you—?” he asked.

Draco turned his head and smiled wickedly.

“You know I have, _Sir_ ,” he whispered

He lowered his head a little, before turning away to pretend that he was listening to Ginny as she finished her story.

Inhaling sharply, Harry felt his cock swell and strain against his trousers and decided that he needed to get Draco home as soon as possible.

In a pathetic attempt to remain unfazed by what Draco had done to his sanity, Harry wrapped both his hands around his whiskey tumbler and tried his hardest to focus on Hermione, who had taken over from Ginny and was talking about something rather hilarious, if everyone’s comical expressions were anything to go by. He couldn’t make any sense out of what she was talking about and with a soft sigh, he resigned himself to the fact that Draco had temporarily bested him and held all the cards.

 _Not for long, little prince, not for long_ , he thought and hoped that Draco knew he was going to pay for this…or wanted to pay for this.

His mind flooded with an array of naughty things he planned to do when he got Draco home later tonight and he indulged for a moment or two, then pushed them all aside and taking a deep breath he exercised a bit (or a lot) of self-control.

An hour or so later, their little group started to break up and as Harry watched Ron and Hermione disappear through the Floo, he felt Charlie pull him aside.

“So? He’s taken the plunge then?” Charlie asked, quite casually casting a quick glance at Draco, who was chatting away to Ginny and laughing at something she’d just said.

Harry followed Charlie’s gaze and longingly stared at Draco’s covered neck.

He let out a small sigh and turned to face Charlie.

“Yes and no, half and half,” he answered.

“But you’ve got him wearing a collar?”

Charlie frowned and Harry sighed again.

“No, that was entirely his decision. I had nothing to do with that.”

Charlie smirked.

“Losing control over your sub so soon?”

Harry wanted to glower but he was too distracted to put in the effort to school his features.

“He’s not my sub. And I’d say come home with us and watch me teach him a lesson but I doubt he’d agree to that. Not now, not ever.”

“Never say never, Harry,” Charlie said.

He wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him into a brother hug.

“You’re good for each other, he’s exactly what you need and you are what he needs. Don’t fuck it up.”

Harry frowned.

“Why does everyone keep telling me that? It’s like you’re expecting me to ruin it or something. Have you been talking to Caleb?”

Charlie smiled.

“We care about you, that’s all.”

Harry pulled a face and looked disgruntled.

“I like you better when you’re all mean and dominant.”

“I’m never mean. Well okay, maybe a little bit, and only sometimes and when it’s deserved or desired.”

Harry rolled his eyes in response.

“Get your arse back home to your little slave boy, I’m sure he’s eagerly waiting to serve you.”

Charlie grinned.

“Have fun punishing Malfoy for his misdeeds.”

Harry watched and listened as Charlie headed over to Ginny and offered to take her home. She gave him a frown and made a sassy comment about being an independent woman who needed no man, or brother, but followed him through the Floo anyway.

Once it was only them, Harry locked eyes with Draco and instead of walking over to him, he waited for Draco to come to him and taking his hand, he pulled him close.

“Yours or mine?” he asked, his voice low, husky, and teasing.

He fixed Draco with a smouldering stare and watched as he flushed and swallowed hard.

“Your choice, Sir,” Draco whispered so quietly that Harry nearly missed it.

“Smart answer,” he said.

Instead of reaching for a handful of Floo powder and tossing it into the fireplace so that the flames turned green and allowed for safe passage, Harry dragged Draco outside with him, pulled him into a dark alcove beside the Leaky Cauldron and wrapping both arms around him, he focused and they disapparated on the spot.

A minute later, they landed in the centre of his living room in Grimmauld Place and without giving Draco a chance to properly straighten up or catch his balance, Harry grabbed both his wrists and pulled them behind his back.

He marched Draco across the room, pushed him onto the sofa cushions, straddled Draco’s thighs, and forced his wrists up to the centre of his back.

Draco groaned in obvious discomfort and Harry squeezed his wrists that little bit tighter. He crashed his mouth onto Draco’s and claimed his lips in a passionate kiss, sucking at his bottom lip and biting it sharply to pull a whimper from the depths of Draco’s throat.

He felt Draco flex his fingers and yanking his wrists up another inch, Harry swallowed the moan he forced from Draco’s lips.

Draco writhed beneath him and pinning him further into the cushions, Harry plunged his tongue deep into Draco’s mouth and swiped it along its counterpart. He rolled his hips and felt Draco trying to thrust his own upwards but foiled the attempt by squeezing his thigh muscles around Draco’s legs, making it quite impossible for him to move.

He pulled away from the kiss and focusing his magic, he mumbled a wandless spell that turned the lamp in the corner on and flooded the room with low golden light.

“You’ve been naughty,” he whispered.

He fixed Draco with his dark emerald-green eyes and a gaze so intense that made Draco swallow hard and breathe faster.

“And naughty boys get punished, you know that,” Harry continued.

He was inexplicably pleased when Draco swallowed hard and delighted in the flicker of fear in Draco’s eyes but knowing that Draco was still new to the game and needed some reassurance, he softened his expression and smiled warmly.

“Sir,” Draco breathed.

“I—”

Harry let go of one of Draco’s wrists, pulled the grey cashmere scarf off Draco’s neck, and exposed his black leather collar. He hooked his index finger into the O-ring at the front and tugged.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t try to talk myself out of it, my little prince,” he said, keeping his voice low but somewhat menacing.

“Because I don’t think you suddenly forgot all about the charm I placed on the collar, you absolutely did this on purpose. Payback for me putting your hand on my cock in the middle of dinner.”

Harry smirked and gave the collar another little tug.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” Draco whispered.

The quiver in his voice was unmistakable. It was also beautifully enticing and all kinds of erotic.

Draco looked at Harry with wide eyes and unable to resist his beautifully flushed face, Harry ran a single finger down Draco’s cheek and along his jawline. He cupped his chin and leant in to place a gentle kiss on Draco’s lips.

“Bit late for that now, my little prince, you commit the crime, you do the time.”

He chuckled and moving back, he slid off Draco’s lap and moved to stand.

“Naughty boys don’t get to wear clothes, my little prince, so _strip_.”

He issued his first order of the night and idly toying with Draco’s scarf, Harry watched him hesitate. He could tell that Draco was just a little apprehensive because he didn’t know what was coming. Smiling softly, Harry drew his wand and swishing it, he mumbled the incantation to a warming charm that instantly settled around the room, raising the temperature, and giving the room a cosy feel.

“There, a little incentive,” he said.

“Or if you’re absolutely opposed to this, you know what to say. If you don’t say it, I expect you to get naked and trust me, it’s more fun if you do it and much less if I do it with magic.”

Harry took another step back, he patiently waited for Draco to make his move.

 _I’ll have you begging soon enough,_ he thought and running his hands over the soft material in his hand, he continued to fondle Draco’s scarf.

About a minute passed, then Draco slowly moved to the edge of the couch. He pushed himself onto his feet, unbuttoned his elegant knee-length black coat and shrugging it off his shoulders, he placed it over the sofa’s armrest.

He then took off his jumper, folded it and placed it on top of his coat. Draco’s hands trembled a little as he unbuttoned his shirt but he managed just fine. He undid the cufflinks, placed these in the pockets of his trousers and then shrugged his shirt off. It fell to his elbows and taking it off completely, he placed it on top of his other clothes.

When it came to his trousers, he hesitated a little and decided to divest himself of his shoes first. He pushed them aside, toed his socks off and catching Harry’s eye, he looked a bit abashed.

“You’re doing well. Go on,” Harry encouraged gently and with a warm smile.

It took Draco another moment before he found the courage to follow Harry’s order and taking a deep breath, he popped the button of his trousers open and pulled the zipper down. He pushed the trousers off his hips and they slipped to his knees.

Moving his legs, Draco let them fall further, then gracefully stepped out of them and bent over to pick them up. He folded his trousers neatly and placed them on top of all his other clothes.

“So beautiful,” Harry praised.

Draco flushed but hooked his thumbs into his boxer briefs and slowly dragged them off his hips.

A visible shudder went through him and he took off his last piece of clothing. He cast it aside and now naked, except for his leather collar, he clearly felt a little modest and promptly moved his hands to cover up his most private part, although he didn’t manage to hide his rather prominent erection completely.

Harry smiled.

“It’s just you and me. Let me see you, my love. I love looking at you,” he said and after dithering for a moment and fighting another blush that threatened to creep onto his face, Draco moved his hands and let them dangle at his sides.

Harry nodded in silent approval and his eyes swept over Draco’s naked form.

His hair was a dishevelled mess from their trip home and their wild kiss. His flushed cheeks, his parted lips and the rapid rise and fall of his chest gave away his excitement and Harry let his eyes settle on Draco’s long and hard cock. It twitched, seemingly knowing that Harry appreciated what he saw.

“You are so beautiful, my little prince,” he whispered.

He took a few steps backwards, moved to sit down on the comfortable armchair across from the sofa and leant back. He took a few minutes to thoroughly admire Draco’s naked form and at the same time, he also gave Draco the time he needed to adjust to the feeling of being on display.

While he had seen Draco naked countless times, this was different and he could tell that Draco needed a little time to warm up the situation.

Little by little, Draco relaxed and straightened up a little. His breathing calmed and he smiled softly.

Harry took that as a sign that Draco was ready and made one simple request.

“C’ mere,” he instructed.

When Draco moved his left foot forward, he instantly clicked his tongue and shook his head.

“No, my little prince, not like that. That’s too simple. Naughty boys like you don’t get to walk.”

“Crawl?” Draco whispered.

His breathing hitched.

Harry merely inclined his head and smiled. He watched as Draco slowly dropped to his knees, moved onto all fours, and gracefully crawled across the room and over to where Harry was sitting. Harry moved to the edge of the chair, and reaching out, he ran his fingers through Draco’s hair.

“Good boy,” he smiled.

Draco whimpered softly and moved to sit back on his haunches. Instead of looking at Harry, he lowered his head and stared at the floor. Harry reached out, placed a single finger under Draco’s chin and pushed it up. He smiled at Draco and leant forward to give him a kiss.

“Give me your hands,” he murmured against Draco’s lips and pulled back to watch.

Draco offered both his hands to him, and using the scarf, Harry expertly bound his wrists together, then gave them a tug and smirked.

“So, halfway through dinner with our friends to celebrate the success of our interview, you just suddenly felt the burning desire to put on your collar, is that right, my little prince?”

“Sir, I—”

Harry clicked his tongue.

“Just answer the question.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Draco nodded and lowered his head to avert his gaze.

Harry admonished him but kept his voice gentle enough. He knew that he didn’t have to be overly harsh with Draco.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

Draco raised his head immediately.

“That’s better.”

“Tell me, my little prince, did you think that making me sit through over an hour of knowing that you are wearing your collar underneath that scarf was a good idea?”

“I just— I didn’t— I—” Draco stammered.

  
“You wanted to tease me, isn’t that so? A little payback because I made you keep your hand between my legs, huh?” Harry pushed.

 _And let’s not even get into why you had the collar with you in the first place. You clearly planned this, devious little snake_ , he thought.

“I—”

Draco flushed crimson and his eyes darted around the room.

Harry clicked his tongue again.

“I said look at me when I’m talking to you. I don’t fancy repeating myself.”

This time he spoke a lot more firmly and Draco’s head snapped up almost instantly.

“Answer the question, my little prince, and I suggest you answer honestly. This is your last chance.”

“Yes, Sir. Yes, I wanted to tease you.”

Draco whispered and pulling his bottom lip into his mouth, he gnawed at it.

Harry smiled and ran his fingers through Draco’s hair.

“There, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” he asked.

When Draco opened his mouth to answer the question, he shook his head and continued talking.

“Naughty boys who tease get punished, surely you knew that, my little prince?”

Harry deliberately softened his voice again.

“Yes, Sir.”

Draco flushed anew.

Harry hooked his finger into the O-ring at the front of Draco’s play collar and tugged on it.

“Surely you know that being deliberately naughty will absolutely result in getting disciplined. Tell me, my little prince, do you want me to punish you? Did you put your pretty collar on because you wanted me to teach you a lesson?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Draco whimpered softly and letting go of the collar’s O-ring, Harry cupped Draco’s chin instead and grasped it firmly.

“If you want to be punished so badly, then ask for it,” he said.

He felt Draco swallow hard and stare up at him with wide eyes that were dark with lust and shining with desire as well as slightly fearful.

Harry smiled and ran his fingers through Draco’s hair, wondering how long it would take him before he gave in and asked for the punishment he wanted.

He withdrew from Draco and resting his hands on his thighs, he leant back in the armchair and watched as Draco fought with himself, fought to quench the embarrassment he felt to ask for something so naughty.

Draco shuffled uncomfortably, worried his bottom lip some more, and looked at him with pleading eyes that screamed _don’t-make-me-ask-for-it_.

“I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me what it is you want, my little prince,” Harry said softly after several minutes had passed and sitting forward, he caressed Draco’s cheek.

“Tell me, my love, what is it you need?” he promoted. “You know I’ll take care of you, I made you that promise when I gifted you that collar. I’m not taking that promise back. It stands.”

“I—”

Draco swallowed hard.

“I—, _SirIwasnaughtypleasepunishme_.”

He forced the words past his lips and blushing a deep shade of red he lowered his eyes.

Instead of forcing him to look up again, Harry merely ran his fingers through Draco’s hair.

“With pleasure, my love,” he whispered. “Over my knees, naughty boy.”

Draco gave a low whimper and because his hands were bound, he moved rather awkwardly but managed to bent over Harry’s thighs and shuffle into position.

Harry teasingly ran his fingertips down Draco’s spine, caressed his lower back and then ran a single fingertip along the crack between Draco’s buttocks, drawing a low moan from him. He ran the flat of his hand up and down the back of Draco’s thighs, then lowered his head to press a kiss to each buttock.

Draco moaned and Harry rubbed his hand over each buttock, warming the skin and drawing more blood to the surface. His fingers teasingly slipped into the crack but never far enough to touch Draco’s hole and Draco whimpered, his desperation so plainly obvious.

“ _Please_ ,” he whispered.

Harry ignored his request entirely.

Instead, he massaged Draco’s buttocks for a little while longer, then went back to caressing them softly and it was only when Draco had completely relaxed and wasn’t at all expecting it, that Harry raised his hand and brought his palm down on Draco’s arse, delivering a serious blow.

The loud smack filled the room interrupting the silence and Draco’s continuous whimpers turned into a full-fledged groan.

He clenched his buttocks and awkwardly arched his back as he rode the wave of the intense sting.

Harry smiled and massaged Draco’s buttock prolonging the sting some more. He then brought his hand down on Draco’s arse several times and in rapid succession, alternating between heavier and lighter blows.

With each smack, Draco groaned and arched his back and Harry felt his cock twitch against his clothed thigh.

Harry went back to massaging Draco’s reddened arse cheek and squeezed it hard, digging his fingernails into the abused flesh.

“Naughty boy, you’re all excited about this. You like that way too much. I think I need to spank you harder for the message to really sink in, this is foreplay for you,” Harry teased.

Draco whimpered breathlessly and Harry let his fingertips ghost over the red skin, deliberately teasing to cause wave after wave of pleasurable pain to surge through Draco.

Harry indulged in a little fantasy of his own of making Draco orgasm from a spanking alone but he didn’t think that Draco was ready for that quite yet.

Instead, he smacked Draco’s buttocks several times, once again alternating between lighter blows and firmer blows and in-between several of those, he rubbed his palms over the glowing red skin, drawing out the sensation of each sting, then rather unexpectedly brought his hand down firmly enough to make Draco yelp with surprise.

“There, a few more of those and the message should sink in nicely. It’ll throb and thrum long enough for you to hopefully remember. Don’t tease if you don’t want to pay the price.”

Harry chuckled.

He flexed his hand and _smack, smack, smack,_ delivered three hard blows in rapid succession. Draco’s groan turned into a low muffled scream as he pressed his scarf-bound wrists to his mouth. Harry soothed the stinging, throbbing flesh with featherlight touches and a few tiny kisses.

“Had enough yet, my little prince?” Harry asked

He let out a low chuckle when Draco mewled and wriggled his rapidly reddening arse.

“No? Want more still?” he teased and brought his hand down on Draco’s left buttock, then his right one and the left one again.

“Such a lovely shade of red, you should look at yourself, little prince, your arse looks gorgeous, I want to eat you right up,” Harry said softly.

After delivering yet another smack, he rubbed his hand over the skin. It thrummed and felt hot to the touch. Harry teased and sliding his fingers between Draco’s buttocks, he let his fingertips ghost over Draco’s fluttering hole.

“Tsk, tsk, a bit of spanking and you’re this desperate to have your hole filled.”

He clicked his tongue, pushed Draco off his knees and into a kneeling position before he grabbed Draco’s chin and squeezing it firmly, he forced Draco to look at him.

Draco’s face was red, flushed from the excitement of his spanking and his laboured breathing, and his beautiful silvery-grey eyes were watery. What really made Harry’s heart flutter with joy though was the blissed-out expression on his face, the perfect proof that he’d enjoyed his punishment, which really had been more of a funishment than proper discipline.

“Naughty boys like you don’t get their holes played with, they don’t get finger-fucked and they most definitely don’t get to have a cock up their arse.”

At Harry’s words, Draco’s eyes widened and he let out a needy whimper.

“Please, Sir,” he begged.

Harry smirked and held Draco’s gaze for several seconds before flat-out rejecting Draco’s plea.

“No. Now, be a good boy and go fetch me a chair from the kitchen or I’ll have to continue spanking you until you’re obedient enough to follow my instructions.”

Harry got up from the armchair and moving away from Draco and to the centre of the room, he turned to find Draco still on his knees, looking up at him with a pleading expression.

“Sir, my hands,” he said quietly.

Harry smiled.

“I’m not taking the scarf off. You’re a smart boy, you’ll figure it out. It’s only a chair. Now, go.”

Draco looked at him for a moment, then gave a resigned little nod and wincing, he got to his feet and gingerly moved towards the door.

“What a gorgeous red arse, if you ask me, it should always be like this.”

Harry teased on Draco’s way out the door and Draco whimpered but made no sassy response in return.

Instead, he lowered his head and left the room to fetch a chair from the kitchen. The dining room was nearer but those chairs had upholstery while the chairs in the kitchen were plain wood.

Harry had no intention of allowing Draco to sit comfortably.

If Draco thought to make him squirm through dinner was fun, then he needed to learn what it felt like to sit uncomfortably for an hour on a freshly spanked, still throbbing arse.

 _You’ll be very uncomfortable indeed_ , Harry thought with a grin, _that’ll teach you to tease me, my little prince_.

It didn’t take long for Draco to return with a chair. With his hands bound at the wrists and his buttocks still throbbing from the spanking he had just received, he carried it rather awkwardly.

“Put it right here,” Harry said.

He moved aside and motioned for Draco to place the chair in the centre of the room, then turned it around to face the sofa and stopped Draco when he tried to sink to his knees.

“I don’t want you to kneel,” he said softly and with a devious smirk. “I think we’ll try sitting for a while.”

Draco’s eyes widened and he gulped.

“Harry—” he whispered.

Harry schooled his expression and remained nonchalant.

“Do you have a problem with following that order?” he asked and crossing his arms over his chest, he waited and watched for Draco carefully a moment, then continued.

“I can make you sit down but I’d rather you do it yourself. If you really don’t want to, use your safeword, the choice is yours,” Harry said rather firmly and only because he could tell that Draco was afraid of being uncomfortable and not because he wanted to stop their little game.

Draco hesitated several seconds, then sighed softly and obediently resigning himself to his fate, he moved to sit on the chair. He let out a low hiss, shuffled a little and hissed again.

Harry smiled.

“Naughty boys who tease when they know not to, need to learn a lesson,” he said softly and reaching for Draco’s wrists, he removed the scarf.

“Hands behind the back of the chair,” he instructed.

He walked around the chair until he stood behind Draco and bound Draco’s wrists securely to the chair, then trailed his hands up Draco’s arms, over his shoulders and down his chest where he toyed with Draco’s nipples. He rolled them between his thumb and forefinger, pinched them, then grazed his fingernails over them, and pinched again.

Leaning a little closer, he inhaled, pressed his mouth to Draco’s ear, and exhaling he blew hot hair over his ear shell.

Draco shivered and tilted his head a little, quietly asking for more of the same. Harry obliged and sucking the earlobe into his mouth, he nibbled and suckled on it, then trailed a series of tiny kisses, licks and bites up and down the side of Draco’s neck.

“Comfortable?”

Draco whimpered.

“No, Sir.”

“Perfect. Just what I want,” Harry said

He let his hands trail down Draco’s naked body, toyed with his navel, teased his stomach, tenderly traced the curse scar on his lower abdomen, then gently forced him to spread his legs. Harry ran his fingertips up and down the inside of Draco’s thighs and watched his cock twitch excitedly but made no move to touch it. The head glistened with a little bit of precome and scooping some of it up, Harry sucked it off his finger and moaned into Draco’s ear.

“You taste so fucking good, my little prince,” he murmured and Draco shivered.

Then, abruptly ending his teasing, Harry stepped around to the front and forcing Draco’s chin up, he looked at him.

“Naughty boys don’t get to have their cocks played with and they most definitely don’t get to come and if they do so without permission, they may just get another spanking and find themselves sitting on that very chair all night long. Do we understand each other, my little prince?”

“Yes, Sir,” Draco answered, then let out a desperate little whimper.

Harry leant down to capture Draco’s lips in a deep kiss. He swiped his tongue repeatedly through Draco’s mouth, allowing him to taste himself, then pulled back and summoned four pieces of dark-green rope from his playroom upstairs.

“Just to make sure you don’t start squirming when your discomfort increases, which I can assure you will happen the longer you sit on that chair,” Harry smiled.

He dropped three out of the four pieces of rope onto the floor and taking a step closer to Draco, he reassured him with another kiss.

“It’s plain rope,” he whispered. “There’s nothing magical about it. If you at any point feel like you can’t take it anymore, your safeword is all it takes. I won’t be upset and I most definitely won’t be angry. OK?”

Draco worried his bottom lip for several seconds, shifted uncomfortably on the chair, then nodded.

“OK,” he said quietly.

“Good, now be a good little prince and close your eyes for me for a second,” Harry said and when Draco closed his eyes, he took one end of the rope and ran it over Draco’s chest.

“Feel that? It’s jute, all natural, it’s normally beige in colour but I had these dyed in your favourite colour,” Harry spoke softly.

“I can assure you the green looks absolutely stunning against your pale skin, my love. You’ll be able to see so for yourself in a little while.”

Harry gave Draco a little more time to familiarise himself with the feel of the rope against his skin, then stepped behind him and placed the rope in Draco’s hands, letting him hold and instructing him to squeeze it. While Draco did that, Harry kissed the side of his neck and nibbled on his ear.

“Ready,” he asked eventually.

Draco gave a faint nod.

“Yes, Sir,” he breathed.

Without allowing Draco to open his eyes, Harry moved to tie Draco’s right leg to the chair.

He worked the rope around Draco’s thigh and calf, adding several rather extravagant knots along the way. As he worked, he kept glancing up at Draco’s face to make sure he was OK.

Having one’s wrists bound to the bed wasn’t quite the same as having one’s entire leg bound tightly to a chair and the last Harry wanted was for Draco to freak out.

“OK?” he asked again when he tied the last knot.

Draco nodded.

“Yes, Sir.”

Harry continued with a new piece of rope and Draco’s left leg. He used the exact same knotting pattern and created a beautiful mirror image of the decorative knots he had worked into the restraints around Draco’s right leg.

When he had nearly finished, Draco opened his eyes, blinked several times and Harry smiled at him.

“This looks beautiful,” he said.

“You look beautiful, my love,” Harry replied.

He summoned the third piece of rope, worked it through the O-ring at the front of Draco’s collar, found the bight and created a stunning pattern of knots down the centre of Draco’s chest, then used the last piece of rope to secure Draco’s waist to the chair, removed the scarf and used each end of the rope to tie Draco’s arms and wrists to the back of the chair.

When he had finished, he ran his hands over every inch of Draco’s body, then captured his lips in a searing kiss which he drew out until they were both slightly breathless.

Only then and still somewhat unwilling to break the kiss, Harry pulled away, took a step back and allowed himself to admire his handiwork.

Draco was well and truly restrained to the chair with virtually no wriggle room. He could move his feet and hands and his head, of course, but that was about it. The rest of him was bound to the chair and he looked divine.

Harry told him so, repeatedly and until Draco’s eyes filled with tears. He kissed Draco’s eyelids, his nose, and his lips, and drew back again to take another moment to admire the stark contrast of the dark green ropes against Draco’s pale skin.

Harry smiled and stepping forward, he cupped Draco’s chin and forcing it up a little, he held Draco’s gaze for a moment, then spoke up.

“Naughty boys don’t get to play. Naughty boys only get to sit on their spanked arse and watch,” he said.

He traced an ancient rune onto Draco’s thigh and mumbled the incantation for a wicked little mirror spell.

“In a second you’ll find that you’re quite familiar with that little spell I just cast, you experienced it once already,” Harry said.

He then gave Draco one last kiss, moved towards the couch, took off his shoes and unfastened his trousers. He took them off and placed them neatly beside Draco’s pile of clothing, then divested himself of his boxers too and sitting in the centre of the sofa, he spread his legs comfortably and summoned a bottle of lube.

It flew into the room and Harry caught it in mid-air. He flicked the cap open, poured some of the clear liquid onto his palm and warmed it up a little, then wrapped his fist around his hard cock and stroked himself lazily. The moment he did, Draco hissed and let out a low moan.

“Told you you’d be familiar with that spell,” Harry smirked.

Getting a little more comfortable, he spread his legs a little further, dug his heels into the soft carpet and looked directly at Draco, who stared at him with wide eyes and parted lips.

“You now get the pleasure of watching me have a very good time, without the added benefit of having one yourself,” Harry said huskily.

He let out a low moan, ran his thumb over and around the head of his cock and watched the expression on Draco’s face. The spell allowed Draco to feel what Harry was doing to himself and while it felt good, it wasn’t real and it wouldn’t take long for Draco’s frustration to kick in.

“Such a shame you decided to be naughty, I’d have loved playing with your cock, wrapping my hand around it like so, and stroking like this, up and down, slow and fast, hard and soft,” Harry teased. “ _Ngh_ , you have no idea how good this feels, that spell just doesn’t compare to the real thing, my little prince.”

“Harry—”

Draco whimpered and stroking himself a little faster, Harry smiled rather deviously.

“Yes, my love? Feeling a bit uncomfortable? Are the ropes too tight?”

“No— the ropes— the ropes— are fine,” Draco breathed.

“Please, Sir.”

“Please what?”

“Touch me, please.”

“I am touching you, well I’m touching myself but you can feel it, can’t you? Tell me, does it feel good my love?”

“ _Ngh_ , Sir, please.”

“No, I told you, only good boys get to play, naughty boys get punished.”

Harry smiled and let his head fall back. He pleasured himself to the sound of Draco’s incessant pleas which he resolutely ignored.

After a while, he lifted his head off the backrest of the sofa and looked at Draco, who looked positively uncomfortable.

“Tell me, my little prince, how does your arse feel?”

“Sore, Sir,” Draco mumbled.

When Harry flicked his thumb repeatedly over the head of his cock, he let out a low moan.

“Good, very good,” Harry smiled. “If you had been a good little prince, I would have taken you upstairs, tied you to the bed and fucked you so good you would still feel my cock in you all day tomorrow. Alas, you had to be naughty. I guess your hole will go empty for tonight and tomorrow you’ll be thinking about what you could have had—”

“Harry, _please_ , please,” Draco begged.

“Please what?”

Harry played dumb and Draco groaned.

“Please let me come, I need to come.”

“You _need_ to come? Is that so?”

Harry arched an eyebrow at Draco.

“Should’ve thought about that before you decided to be naughty, my love,” he said with a smile and flicked his thumb over his cock again. He caressed his balls with his other hand and fondling them gently, he increased the speed of his strokes and let out a low moan.

“Let me suck your cock, please, Sir, I’ll make you feel so good,” Draco begged.

Harry smirked.

He knew Draco would try bargaining with him and he wasn’t in the least bit interested.

“That would be giving you a reward, do you really think you deserve a reward?”

“ _Ngh_ , no, but please, Sir, please.”

“No.”

Harry shook his head and leaning back, he kept his eyes focused on Draco and the way his cock bobbed and twitched every time Harry moved his hand over his own cock.

He continued to stroke himself at his own leisure.

“And there I thought that we could celebrate the success of the interview and you’d get on all fours for me and let me eat your arse, let me taste you and work you open, loosen you up good and proper before I push my cock into you and find that little bundle of nerves that makes you scream such wonderful obscenities each time I do it…”

“Please, please, please, please, please.”

Draco nattered away, half delirious with unrequited want and Harry chuckled.

“Keep begging, you sound so pretty when you do, I could listen to that all night, it’ll drive me right over the edge.”

Harry tormented Draco a little more and stroking himself harder, he set a proper rhythm. The pulsing in his cock increased and the hard flesh swelled that little bit more and grew a little heavier in his hand. Harry felt his balls tighten and letting out a low groan, he caressed the head, the part that was most sensitive and watched Draco’s face.

Draco had his eyes glued to his hand and cock, watching him as he pleasured himself. His flushed cheeks glowed red and a fine sheen of perspiration covered his forehead and the strip above his upper lip and below his nose. His mouth hung open and he was panting for air. He looked hungry, almost starved even, and his eyes burned with desire so intense that Harry thought he could feel it on his cock.

He let out a low moan and working himself with a purpose, he brought himself right to the very edge of his orgasm and knowing that Draco was equally as close, he severed the spell.

Draco groaned at the sudden loss of the pleasurable mirroring sensation and begged for his own relief.

Harry outright denied him, then let his head fall back, closed his eyes, and let Draco’s pleas push him over the edge. He tensed, arched his back, groaned, and with one last thrust into his hand, he came all over it. He rode out his orgasm, lazily stroked himself for a few more seconds and once he managed to control his breathing, he lifted his head and looked at Draco, who looked positively miserable.

“Please, Sir, I promise, I won’t be naughty anymore, I learnt my lesson, I swear. I’ll be good, really good,” he pleaded.

Harry chuckled breathlessly. He vanished this come with a wandless wordless spell and delighted in Draco’s immediate and very frustrated groan.

“Oh, I’m sorry, my love, did you want that for dessert?”

“ _Ngh_ , yes, fuck, Harry, please, Sir, please,” Draco moaned.

Harry moved to his feet and clicked his tongue.

“Good boys don’t use such bad words.”

“I’m sorry, I—”

“Shush,” Harry silenced.

He walked over to Draco, straddled his thighs and looking him in the eye, he held his gaze for the longest time, then smiled gently and caressed Draco’s cheek.

“Tell me, my love, if I believe you, if I let you come and you’re naughty again, what shall I do then?”

“I won’t, I prom—”

Harry clicked his tongue.

“Don’t make promises, you know you can’t keep, I know you better than that,” he whispered.

Draco gave a frustrated sigh.

“Please, I’ll be good.”

“You say that now…”

Harry smirked and summoning the lube from the sofa, he poured some onto the palm of his hand but instead of warming it up first, like he had done for himself, he wrapped his hand around Draco’s cock and stroked once, twice, then stopped.

Draco hissed, then groaned.

“Let’s make a deal,” Harry suggested as he circled his thumb around the head of Draco’s cock, deliberately teasing him but not actually satisfying him.

“I’ll let you come this time, but if you’re naughty again, you won’t get away with a simple spanking and being forced to sit on a hard, wooden chair. If you do it again, it won’t be my hand that will repeatedly land on your arse but the Kiss of the Dragon, my favourite double-tongued crop slash whip, which, in my humble opinion is perfect for you, given that you both share the same name,” Harry whispered and to make a point, he summoned the impact toy in question.

It flew into his hand several seconds later and let it whoosh through the air. As he did so, he watched Draco’s face closely.

Draco’s eyes widened and he let out a whimper as he stared at the black fork-tongued leather toy that was a terrifying mixture between a riding crop and a whip.

Harry expertly held in his hand but dropped to the floor in favour of cupping Draco’s cheek and giving him a reassuring kiss.

He pressed his lips to Draco’s ear, nibbled on his earlobe and let out an audible breath that made Draco moan.

“It hurts just a little more than my hand, my love, I promise. I am sure, you can handle it,” he murmured into Draco’s ear and continued to stroke his hard, reddened cock, twisting his hand around it as he pumped the throbbing flesh.

“Your choice. It all depends on how badly you want to be good for me.”

“I’ll be good, I promise, please.”

Draco moaned and Harry let out a low chuckle.

“Very well then, my little prince,” he said, “just as long as you promise to be good, I’m happy to give you all the rewards you want.”

Wrapping his hand firmly around Draco’s cock, Harry worked him hard.

His strokes were fast and firm and leaning back a little, he watched Draco’s face as he brought him closer and closer to the edge. When he was seconds away from his orgasm, Harry stopped and squeezed the base of Draco’s cock hard.

Draco’s eyes, which had fallen closed, snapped open and howled in frustration as he stared at Harry with disbelieving eyes that screamed, _you’re-cruel-and-I-hate-you-so-fucking-much-right-now_.

Harry smirked and ignored Draco’s wordless insult.

“I'm afraid I need more reassurance, my little prince. Tell me again you’ll be good,” he pushed.

Draco whimpered.

“I’ll be good, Sir, I promise.”

“Say, I’ll be Harry’s good little prince.”

“ _Ngh_ , Harry—” Draco protested.

“Say it,” Harry pushed.

“I’ll be Harry’s good little prince.”

Draco whispered the words breathlessly and Harry kissed him hard. He could feel his own cock starting to stir again and waving his hand, he vanished the ropes that kept Draco tied to the chair.

He got up, pulled Draco to his feet, and moving the chair aside and kicking at the Kiss of the Dragon, he moved that out of the way too. He pushed Draco to his knees, then onto his back and following him down onto the floor, he grabbed Draco’s legs and spread them wide. Kneeling between Draco’s thighs, he reached for the impact toy and ordered Draco to place his arms above his head.

“Good boy, now hold on to the Kiss of the Dragon, hold on tightly,” he whispered and placed the smooth leather handle in Draco’s hands.

“Whatever you do, don’t let go.”

He summoned the bottle of lube, poured a little more onto his hands, coated his fingers and slipping his hand in-between Draco’s buttocks, he found his hole, teased the rim, and then pushed a single finger all the way inside.

Draco groaned, tensed briefly but adjusted quick enough and pulling his finger out, Harry thrust it right back in.

A few thrusts later, he added a second finger and let them slide in and out of Draco’s tight hole, rubbing and pressing against his prostate.

“Please, Sir, I need you,” Draco pleaded.

“I know you do.”

Harry smiled and coating his half-hard cock with lube, he stroked himself until he was fully hard, then pushed Draco’s legs up and against his chest and positioned the tip of his cock at Draco’s hole. He pushed, breached the tight muscle, and let out a low groan. He loved the feeling of entering Draco, of claiming him, of making him his. It was unbelievably erotic and exciting and something Harry simply couldn’t get enough of.

Draco made a strange noise, something between a strangled sob and an odd mixture of a moan and a groan and Harry gave him a moment to adjust, then slowly pushed all the way into him.

“Now that’s a good boy, you’re taking it so well,” Harry whispered, captured Draco’s lips in a fierce kiss, plunged his tongue deep into his mouth and drew a series of low moans and muffled pleas from him.

He broke the kiss, locked eyes with Draco and pulled almost all the way out of Draco’s tight hole before snapping his hips forward. He moved one hand to Draco’s buttock, rubbed over the tender, red skin and squeezed tightly.

Draco whimpered at the stinging sensation and Harry kissed him again.

“You may come after me, but not before me,” he whispered after pulling away from the kiss.

He grabbed both of Draco’s legs for leverage, pushed them even further up and against Draco’s chest and started fucking into him. His thrusts were hard and quick and changing the angle just a little bit, he found Draco’s prostate and thrust against it.

Draco screamed and arched his back as best as he could and Harry felt his cock twitch excitedly. He repeatedly teased Draco’s prostate and was both surprised and in awe when Draco didn’t beg to come but completely gave himself over to Harry and allowed him to use him for his own pleasure.

Harry groaned and felt sweat break out over on his forehead and all over his back as he continuously slammed into Draco. He felt his second orgasm of the evening build low in the pit of his stomach and not interested in drawing things out, he succumbed to it and let it wash over him.

While it wasn’t as strong as his first one, it felt different and his whole body tensed and he shuddered and shot his come into Draco.

He continued to leisurely thrust into Draco, then pulled his rapidly softening cock out of Draco’s tight hole and watched it clench and flutter as his come slowly dribbled out of it.

Harry rubbed his finger over it, smearing his come all over Draco’s hole and grasping his cock firmly, he circled his thumb around the head and gave it one, two, three, four hard strokes. That was enough to push Draco, who’d been desperate to come for way too long, over the edge and arching his back, he came on a low grunt of Harry’s name.

He spilt his come all over Harry’s hand, his own stomach and some of it even landed on Harry’s shirt.

Harry didn’t care.

He was too preoccupied drowning in the expression of pure ecstasy on Draco’s face. He was panting hard, his mouth hung open and he had his head twisted back as far as he could given the fact that he was lying on the floor. He had clasped his fingers tightly around the Kiss of the Dragon and his knuckles had gone white from the effort it took him to hold on to it.

Harry pressed a gentle kiss to Draco’s damp forehead and paused for a moment when Draco’s eyes fluttered open and he stared at him, thoroughly dazed and out of sorts.

“Thank you, Sir,” he whispered, let his eyes fall closed again and his head roll to the side.

Harry smiled and grudgingly moving off Draco, he lay down on the rug beside him but moved into a sitting position shortly after. He cradled Draco in his arms and held him tight.

“You’re welcome, my love.”

“Will be good, promise, promise, not naughty, never naughty,” Draco babbled.

Harry quite effectively shut him up with a gentle kiss.

“Shush you, I know you will be good for me. You’re my little prince, you’re my good boy,” Harry whispered.

He tried to pry the Kiss of the Dragon from Draco’s hands but was unsuccessful.

“You can let go now, my love, it’s all good,” he reassured and Draco let out a low whimper but refused to let go.

“It’s okay, let go, come on, give it to me, it’s all good, you’re my good boy, my good little prince, you can let go,” Harry coaxed a little more.

Eventually, however, he had to pry one finger after another from the handle and when Draco finally let go, he tossed the whip aside and pulled Draco properly into his arms, hugging him lovingly.

Draco snuck his arms around Harry’s waist and Harry rubbed his back.

“My sweet, sweet little prince, I love you so much.”

“Hmm, love you too,” Draco mumbled into his neck and smiling, Harry suppressed a yawn.

“Let’s relax a bit, then I’ll run us a bath, soothe all your sores,” he promised and kissing the top of Draco’s head, he gently undid the collar and pulled it from Draco’s neck.

“I don’t think we need this tonight, you’re mine, I know that and you know that too.”

“Hmm, yours,” Draco said and giggled softly.

“This was way better than my fantasy.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, my love,” Harry chuckled and although he really wanted to know more about Draco’s fantasy, he managed to rein his curiosity in.

Right now, looking after Draco was more important than some kinky sex fantasy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not just bondage, but art, pure and simple.
> 
> Every time I look at Shibari models my heart flutters with excitement. Nothing will bring out my submissive side faster than the sight of something as gorgeous as this.
> 
> Maybe a visual this will help you understand why Harry loves it so much.
> 
> Note, it's astonishingly difficult to find an image of a male model bound to a chair, well it is not, but I have very high expectations and so I decided to share a visual that matches the theme of the story and given the shot you may even be able to imagine this as Draco.
> 
>  
> 
> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47927447221/in/dateposted-public/)  
>   
> 


	38. Come Undone (Stripping Back The Layers)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)
> 
> Dearest Reader,
> 
> are you ready for yet more of Harry's slyness? Would you like to find out what happened the morning after that delicious spanking session in the living room of Grimmauld Place? How about a trip down memory lane and a little bit about Harry's life in Canada?  
> If all that's to your liking, please do pull up a comfortable chair, curl up on the couch or lie down in bed and enjoy my humble offering.
> 
> As usual, the general warnings apply. I do not recommend the consumption of food and drink while reading the chapter, however ultimately the decision is yours. I take no responsibility but aftercare will be provided in form of a comforting comment.
> 
> This chapter includes a little bit of past angst, however it's all resolved at the end.
> 
> Now, if you don't mind, I must excuse myself. The coffee is waiting.

* * *

The next morning Harry woke early and to the pleasant feeling of Draco lazily stretching beside him, slowly and with a clear disinclination for physical exertion. He pulled him a little closer and hugged him tight.

Draco wriggled against his side, sneaked one leg over one of his own and pushed his thigh between his legs, then draped himself over Harry’s chest.

Harry chuckled lightly and ran his fingertips up and down Draco’s arms and over his shoulder and along his spine. The gentle caress drew a soft hum from the depths of Draco’s throat.

“Morning my gorgeous little prince,” he said softly.

Draco’s lips curled into a smile long before he opened his eyes and blinked slowly.

“Morning, Sir.”

Harry grinned.

“I see, still feeling submissive.”

He let his hand slip down to Draco’s buttocks, teased the sensitive skin and pinched it a little.

Draco let out a soft whimper.

“Still sore?” Harry asked.

Draco shook his head.

“No, just—” he trailed off and fell silent.

He shuffled and folding his hands over Harry’s chest he propped his chin up on it and looked at him with a dreamy expression.

Harry shuffled a little and leaving one hand to rest on Draco’s buttocks, he brought the other one up and combed his fingers through Draco’s soft sleep-mussed hair.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered.

Draco blinked again. His smile grew a little wider and Harry caressed his cheek, then ran his fingers through Draco’s hair again. Draco let his eyes fall closed and humming contently, he rested his cheek on top of the back of his hands.

“Charmer,” he mumbled.

“It’s the truth,” Harry said quietly.

He continued to run his fingers through Draco’s hair and massaged his scalp gently. His other hand skimmed over Draco’s buttocks, teasing, touching, petting. He trailed his fingertips along the crack and drew a series of intricate Shibari knotting patterns on Draco’s lower back, then trailed up and down his spine.

“I love you,” he murmured.

Draco purred, lifted his head, and opened his eyes again.

“I love you too.”

Draco answered without the slightest hesitation and stretching, he pressed his lips against Harry’s and kissed him, then pulled back to look at him.

“I've got a question; will you answer me honestly?”

Harry smiled.

“I will always answer you honestly,” he said and combed his fingers through Draco’s hair.

_I think your hair is rapidly becoming my kink,_ he mused.

“Did you— I mean— Last night, did you— did you hold back? Did you take it easy?”

Harry regarded Draco for a moment, then nodded.

“Yes, a little,” he said.

“Why? Did you think I wouldn’t be able to handle a hard spanking?”

Harry smirked.

“Did you want a hard spanking?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No, but—”

Draco paused and flushed a little.

“I mean you kept saying you wouldn’t let me come, wouldn’t fuck me, and then you did anyway.”

“You promised to be a good little prince,” Harry said.

He chuckled and moved to run his fingers through Draco’s hair again. This time, however, Draco caught his hand and held it tight.

“I was desperate, I would have agreed to get you the moon if it meant you’d allow me an orgasm.”

Harry schooled his expression into a more serious one and delighted in the way Draco swallowed and looked just a little uncomfortable; as though he had just realised, he’d said the wrong thing.

_Tsk, little prince, so good with words, yet you walked yourself right into that one,_ Harry thought with glee, _I’m going to have so much fun making you regret those words_.

“That’s good to know, Draco. I’m glad you’re so honest with me. Next time you decide to be naughty, I will absolutely not let you come but leave you hanging while I use your body for my pleasure and when I’m done I’ll simply cast that nasty little spell I told you about before.”

“I didn’t mean it like that—" Draco said, looking rather disgruntled.

Harry smirked.

He could tell that Draco was trying to talk himself out of the trap he’d talked himself into just a minute ago.

“Oh? Would you care to elaborate on how you did mean it then?” Harry asked.

_Ah, making you squirm, my new favourite pastime_.

“I really thought you’d leave me hanging, I believed you when you said you weren’t going to let me come or finger me or, well, fuck me,” Draco sighed.

“How very devious of me. Yes, I can be quite the Slytherin when I want to, can’t I?”

“So, next time, well, now I know you’re just saying these things to mess with my head. When you showed me that scary whip, that was just to, well, frighten me.”

“Was it?” Harry teased.

“I was under the impression that we made a deal, or are you not a man of your words, Prosecutor Malfoy?”

“Argh, Potter, you’re driving me crazy!”

Draco grumbled under his breath and raised his hand as if to bring it down on Harry’s shoulder or his upper arm but paused halfway and lowering his hand, he decided against getting physical.

Harry smiled.

“Wise move. And I’m ever so pleased to know that I’m driving you crazy, my love. It gives me so much pleasure to know that.”

“It’s not the good kind of crazy!”

Draco huffed and pulling away from Harry, he rolled onto his side and lay facing away from Harry and crossed his arms over his chest.

Harry chuckled.

“Aww, my poor little prince is in a strop,” he teased.

“Stop calling me that,” Draco snapped.

Shuffling across the bed, Harry wrapped an arm around Draco’s waist, slithered it underneath his crossed arms and gently unknotted them. He pressed his lips to Draco’s shoulder and peppered it with tiny kisses, then traced his collarbone with his lips and edged closer and closer to Draco’s neck. He peppered the delicate skin with more tiny kisses and gently nipped at Draco’s earlobe.

“But you are my little prince and I love it when you get all stroppy and then let me kiss it all better,” Harry whispered, pleased when Draco shuddered in his arms.

He sneaked his right arm underneath Draco’s body and locking it around his front, he trapped Draco’s arms in place by closing his hand around Draco’s left wrist and pulling it on top of his right one. He trailed his other hand over Draco’s chest and rubbed his forefinger over Draco’s nipple, feeling it harden beneath his touch.

“You don’t play fair,” Draco huffed out on a breath of warm air.

Harry softly chuckled into his ear.

“I told you I can be quite Slytherin when I want to be,” he said and pinched Draco’s nipple, making him yelp in surprise.

“You’re not answering my question either,” Draco said, though his complaint sounded a lot more like a low moan than an actual displeased grumble.

“Which question was that now?”

Harry peppered Draco’s neck with even more kisses. He let his hand slide lower, over Draco’s stomach and played with the coarse, light hair at the base of Draco’s cock. He tugged at it and Draco whimpered.

“Why did you let me come? Why did you fuck me when you said you wouldn’t?”

Draco repeated his question and Harry nipped at his earlobe again and exhaled all over the shell of his ear, sending a tremor through Draco. He moved his hand a little lower and let his fingers ghost over Draco’s hardening cock. It was a fluttering, teasing, barely-there kind of touch and Draco moaned and pushed into him.

Harry threw a leg over Draco’s hip and forced his foot between his knees, effectively locking Draco into place. The move also gave him better access to Draco’s crotch and he caressed Draco’s balls with his fingers, then ran them along the underside of Draco’s cock, drawing yet another moan from him.

“The punishment should always fit the crime; don’t you think so?” he said softly.

“You were naughty, you got a nice spanking for that and I rather enjoyed watching you squirm on that chair. I imagine sitting on a freshly-spanked arse, unable to move and then, on top of all that, having to watch me have a good time without you, must have been terribly uncomfortable.”

Harry teased Draco some more and let his fingers trail up and down the insides of Draco’s thighs, then grazed his nails over the sensitive skin. Draco moaned and Harry peppered the side of his neck with more kisses.

“As you said, my love, you were desperate to come, you would have promised me anything,” Harry breathed into Draco’s ear.

He wrapped his hand around Draco’s cock and gave the hard flesh one firm stroke, then let go. Draco let out a low whimper in protest.

“But you promised me to be good, and I will hold you to your word, my little prince. It would be rather foolish of you to assume that I’ll always be this lax with you. Especially now that I know, and again, I must thank you for your honesty, you like a firm hand. In future, I will be very happy to provide you with a hard spanking that’ll have your arse throb and thrum for at least a day.”

Harry moved to caress Draco’s navel, then returned to teasing his nipples with gentle touches, firm pinches, and the occasional graze of his nail.

Draco whimpered and moaned.

Harry breathed hotly into his ear, nibbled on his earlobe, then bit and sucked at his neck, deliberately leaving a mark.

“As for why I fucked you? Hm, there’s a very simple answer to that question. You’re mine, and I very much like that tight hole of yours. I like playing with it.”

Harry paused again and released Draco’s leg. He pushed him onto his front but made sure to keep Draco’s arms pinned between the mattress and Draco’s chest, then ran his fingers down Draco’s spine. There he drew an infinity symbol at the base of it and teased the crack between Draco’s buttocks. He slipped a single finger into the crack and teased the sensitive furled skin around Draco’s hole.

Draco groaned and even though the pillow, he’d pressed his face into, muffled the sound somewhat, it didn’t sound any less wonderful.

Harry trailed wet little kisses halfway down Draco’s spine and continued to rub his finger over Draco’s hole, idly playing with it, deliberately teasing but not satisfying.

“I like playing with your hole, I like rubbing my finger over it—”

Harry murmured the words into Draco’s back.

“I like pushing my finger inside you—”

He paused, pressed his finger against Draco’s hole and the muscles around it tensed. The pressure wasn’t enough to breach and allow his finger to slip inside but it was most definitely enough for Draco to feel it.

“I like filling your tight little hole with my cock, I like fucking you, I like feeling you clench around my cock and I like filling you with my come, so there, that’s why I fucked you. Is that answer to your satisfaction, my little prince?”

“ _Ngh_ , Harry—”

Draco groaned into the mattress and tried bucking his hips but was entirely unsuccessful.

Harry chuckled.

He kissed further along Draco’s spine, bit Draco’s arse cheek and drew a long moan from him. It made his cock twitch. He pushed Draco’s legs apart, pressed him further into the mattress and pulled his buttocks apart to expose his hole.

“Beautiful,” he whispered and then did something he knew Draco wasn’t expecting at all.

He leant down and swiped his tongue over Draco’s hole and the now wet ring of muscle fluttered in response as Draco’s buttocks clenched and unclenched.

“You like that, my little prince, don’t you? You like it when I push you into the mattress and play with you, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Draco moaned breathlessly. “Please, Harry, please.”

“Please what?” Harry pressed but before Draco could answer, he swiped his tongue over Draco’s hole again, then circled it with the tip of his tongue.

Whatever Draco had been about to say dissolved into an incoherent mess of garbled nonsense.

“So eager,” Harry teased.

“Tell me, shall I stop now? Was that enough? Or would you like some more?”

“ _Ngh_ , no, please, don’t stop, no.”

“Two licks are all it takes to make you this desperate? I think I need to teach you a little bit of self-control.”

Harry clicked his tongue and instead of continuing, he kissed his way up Draco’s spine and as he did so, he moved to lie on top of Draco. His cock easily slipped between Draco’s buttocks and rolling his hips he let his prick rub along Draco’s hole.

Draco groaned again and pleaded some more.

Harry responded with biting his shoulder, then soothed the bite with his tongue.

“What do you think about spending the morning tied to the bed with me teasing you relentlessly? I’d have to gag you, of course, self-control means that you’re quiet, none of that needy whinging, _please, please let me come, Sir_. Two hours, three hours tops. A bit of edging—”

Harry rolled his hips and rubbed his cock over Draco’s hole.

“I wouldn’t let you come, of course, I made that mistake last night. But not to worry, my love, I learnt my lesson, I’m a very quick study, you see. Today I’m just going to let you tether on the edge, right before that sweet, sweet point of no return.”

“ _Ngh_ , please, no.”

“Please, huh? Ah well, if you’re asking so nicely, it would be just plain rude of me not to do what you want, don’t you agree?”

Draco let out a strangled sob and Harry chuckled into the crook of his neck. He knew exactly what Draco was thinking about. The only thing on Draco’s mind was an orgasm. He wanted it, wanted it desperately, wanted it badly and the idea of possibly not getting to have one was driving him past the brink of insanity.

Harry pulled back a little and rolled his hips again. He set a teasingly slow rhythm and with each thrust, Draco let out a low whimper or a small moan.

“You make such beautiful sounds, my love,” Harry whispered.

He deliberately continued to tease Draco some more and kissing his way down Draco’s spine, he pulled his buttocks apart again and teased his hole with his tongue. He added a little bit of spit and used his tongue to coat Draco’s hole with it. The strong muscles tensed and loosened and adding a little more spit, Harry pushed his tongue inside and Draco let out a guttural grunt and begged shamelessly.

“Fuck, yes, please, please, please, please, don’t stop!”

Harry pulled his tongue out and chuckled.

The vibrations drew another moan from Draco and before he could complain about the loss of his tongue, Harry pushed it in again. He fucked Draco’s hole with his tongue, pushing it in and pulling it out and lost himself in the incessant stream of moans that fell from Draco’s lips.

Draco, of course, tried to wriggle his arse, tried to roll his hips, desperate for some friction against his cock but Harry kept him pinned to the mattress and made it impossible for him to move.

He continued for several minutes, then pulled away and covered Draco’s body with his own.

“What do you want?”

Draco groaned in response.

“Anything, just please,” he begged.

“Anything, huh?”

Harry smirked even though Draco couldn’t see him do so. Still, the expression reverberated in his voice.

“So, another spanking, perhaps?”

Draco groaned.

“Or maybe a cock ring so you’ll stay hard until I’m ready to maybe let you come and a butt plug so you’ll stay open and loose for me? And then I’ll send you downstairs to make us breakfast. And don’t even think about taking the cock ring off, it’s charmed and I’ll know it. You cannot even imagine the kind of trouble you’d be in if you tried to pull that little stunt.”

“ _Ngh_ , Harry, please, please fuck me,” Draco begged.

“Needy little thing, I fucked you last night, it wasn’t to your liking.”

“I loved last night. Please, fuck me.”

“Really? You’re so desperate now you’d promise me the moon just so I give you what you want.”

“No— _please_.”

“You said so yourself—”

Harry pushed him a little further and delighted in the strangled sob-groan-moan-whimper that fell from Draco’s lips.

Draco continued to plead as though his life depended on it.

“I didn’t mean it, please, Harry, please.”

“Such a Slytherin, you’ll say anything to talk you yourself out of a sticky situation.”

Harry chuckled.

He moved down to Draco’s arse, worked his tongue inside the now loosened hole and took a great deal of pleasure eating Draco’s arse. He added a bit more spit, pulled his tongue out and then slipped his finger inside. He fucked Draco with his finger, letting it slide in and out of him and Draco groaned. He groaned and he begged and he sobbed and he pleaded incessantly.

The sounds and words were music to Harry’s ears and while he let them wash over him but didn’t give in. It was much too soon to give Draco what he wanted.

He pushed his finger deeper, found that sweet bundle of nerves and tortured Draco in the best possible way. With an expert touch, Harry worked Draco right to the edge of the point of no return, then pulled him back and pushed him straight towards it again, repeatedly.

By the time he stopped, Draco was a mess.

He was a pliable pile of goo and nothing he said made sense. His flushed skin was blotchy and covered in a fine glistening sheen of perspiration. He was breathless, panting, sobbing, moaning, and groaning. He trembled and shuddered. It was a beautiful sight and Harry felt his heart flutter over the fact that he’d reduced Draco to this, that Draco had willingly allowed him to have this much power, this much control over his body.

Harry kissed his shoulder and Draco begged again. He kissed his neck and Draco pleaded to come. He bit his earlobe and Draco asked him to fuck him. Harry flipped him around, moved Draco’s arms above his head and spreading his legs apart, he slipped in-between them. Their cocks lined up almost perfectly and Draco groaned.

“Look at me, my love,” Harry whispered.

Draco fought to force his eyelids to open. His pupils were big and round, his silvery-grey eyes almost black with arousal and desire and the expression on his face practically screamed desperation.

“Harry, please,” he whispered breathlessly, unable to speak any louder.

Harry smiled.

“You’re so beautiful when you’re writhing beneath me. When you’re begging and moaning and making all those beautiful sounds.”

“Can’t— take— anymore—”

Draco huffed the words out with great effort and Harry watched as he fisted his fingers into the pillow casing.

“Still want to make promises in the hopes I’ll let you come and fuck you?”

Draco shook his head.

“I just— please, Harry, I beg you— don’t— can’t—”

Harry smiled, leant down and captured Draco’s lips in a slow unhurried kiss.

Draco sighed into his mouth and relaxed someone.

When he pulled away from the kiss, Harry spoke again.

“Remember one thing, my love, and remember it well, the punishment must always fit the crime. A spanking was more than enough for your transgression. Everything else was me fucking with your mind. Get used to it, I’m very good at fucking with your mind, as good as you are when you approach the bar in court, perhaps.”

“Better,” Draco breathed.

Harry chuckled.

“What a sweet compliment from my sweet, sweet little prince,” he smiled and kissed Draco again.

He deepened the kiss slowly and pushing his tongue into Draco’s mouth, he wrapped it around Draco’s and as he did, he started to rock his hips.

Their cocks, coated in some lube Harry had conjured wandlessly, slid effortlessly against each other and Draco arched his back a little. Harry pulled away from the kiss and Draco bemoaned the loss.

Harry rocked his hips a little faster.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he whispered and felt Draco’s long lithe legs slither around his waist. “That’s a good boy.”

“Harry— Can I— Am I— I—”

Draco tried to ask a question but struggled to form the words.

“Look at me.”

Harry murmured the gentle request against Draco’s lips and Draco blinked slowly, then opened his eyes and inhaled sharply.

“Yes, you can,” Harry said.

When Draco’s eyes fluttered closed again and his lips curled into a content smile, Harry clicked his tongue and Draco’s eyes flew open instantly.

“I want to look into your beautiful eyes as you come. I want to watch your face as you moan my name and when you spill your juices all over yourself.”

Draco gasped and inhaled deeply, trying to fill his lungs with as much air as possible.

They locked eyes and Harry rocked his hips.

Harder.

Faster.

Draco’s arms stayed where Harry wanted them to be and he allowed himself to drown in Draco’s expressive silvery-grey eyes, which slowly glazed over as Draco slid deeper and deeper into a little world of his own.

Watching it happen gave Harry an intense rush, an incredible high and although he wanted to kiss Draco again, he resisted because he wanted to watch the expressions on Draco’s face more. He watched as a million tiny emotions flickered over his beautifully flushed face and through his glazed unfocused eyes.

_Love._

_Trust._

_Adoration._

_Surrender._

_Need._

_Desire._

_Lust._

_Passion._

Draco’s eyelids fluttered but never fully closed and Harry let his own feelings for Draco flow through his eyes, let him see how much he meant to him, how much he loved him and cared for him and how much he desired to control him and look after him.

“Let go, my sweet little prince, let go.”

Harry eventually whispered and it was all it took to force Draco’s orgasm.

He threw his head back as far as he could, arched his back, groaned, and desperately tried to fill his lungs with air. His legs shook and faltered and Harry could feel Draco’s toes curl against his own legs. He felt Draco’s cock throb and twitch and felt the warm sticky liquid of Draco’s come coat his own cock with rope after rope of the physical proof of Draco’s orgasm.

“Harry— Harry— Harry—”

Draco panted and watching him come undone was the final push Harry needed and he came himself.

He groaned, shuddered, and felt his own toes curl as his orgasm exploded in the pit of his stomach and washed over him with the intensity of a thunderstorm. His ears rang and his mouth dropped open as he tried to fill his burning lungs with air.

His arms temporarily gave in and he slumped on top of Draco.

Draco instinctively moved his arms and wrapped them tightly around Harry, who didn’t begrudge the gesture but buried his face in the crook of Draco’s neck.

He let out a low groan, the sound a pleasurable vibration against Draco’s sweaty skin, and rode out his orgasm.

Afterwards, Harry felt sleepy and content and grudgingly rolling off Draco, he lay on his side but pulled Draco into his arms.

“Sleep,” he ordered, though there was absolutely no bite to his words.

Still, everything else could absolutely wait.

“Best idea you ever head,” Draco whispered into his chest and they both drifted off into the land of post-coital dreams.

* * *

* * *

Draco drew yet another double S-shaped symbol onto Harry’s upper arm and felt inexplicably pleased that Harry hadn’t asked him to stop.

“How did you do it?” he asked into the quiet of the room, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled around them as they cuddled in bed.

Harry turned his head and looked at him with an amused expression. His emerald green eyes twinkled with mirth and his corners of his mouth had curled upward into a small but powerful smile.

“How did I do what?”

“You know what I mean.”

Draco frowned and pulled Harry’s left arm towards him. He trailed his fingers along the length of it and inspected the long thin scar that ran down the inside of his left inner forearm. It was about the same length the remnants of his Dark Mark.

“How did you convince me to stay naked while you had breakfast in that horrid Gryffindor-red bathrobe?”

Harry smirked, a sly grin with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

“Did I convince you? To me, it didn’t seem like you needed much convincing. And what’s the main point of this question? The fact that you were naked or that my bathrobe was a shade of, and I quote, _horrid Gryffindor-red_?”

“Well—” Draco started but trailed off.

He traced the scar on Harry’s arm with the tip of his forefinger.

Harry watched him do it but said nothing. Instead, he waited for Draco to continue. He had something on his mind, he wanted to know something and Harry wasn’t about to push the matter. Draco needed to do this in his own time.

Eventually and after quite a bit of silence, he tore his eyes away from the scar he looked at Harry’s face.

“You asked me not to put on any clothes. And let’s not talk about the robe.”

“Smart move because there’s nothing wrong with that robe. And did I? Did I really _ask_ you not to put on any clothes? Or did I towel you dry, then pull you in for a snog and whisper into your ear that I’d love to keep naked all day? You’re the prosecutor, Draco, you’re supposedly so good at remembering facts, you tell me how that conversation went down.”

Draco sighed.

“Fine, you suggested I should leave my clothes off,” he said and went back to tracing the scar on Harry’s forearm, then abruptly changed the subject, which made Harry smile a little.

“When did you get it?”

“Fourth year, the Triwizard Tournament,” Harry replied and moving his hand, he laced their fingers together.

“And I didn’t suggest you should leave your clothes off. I said I’d love to keep you naked all day, you didn’t object.”

“Sure, why not, blame me. Because I’m the devious one in this relationship,” Draco grumbled.

He pulled his hand away and went back to tracing Harry’s scar.

“Which task? When that Hungarian Horntail chased you? It doesn’t look like something you’d have gotten in the lake.”

Harry chuckled.

“You’re very observant. No, the last task.”

“The maze?”

Draco stopped tracing the scar and looked at Harry instead.

“It’s in the same place as a Death Eater’s Dark Mark. Did Voldemort try and _Mark_ you?”

Harry sighed and shuffled into a slightly more upright position which resulted in the bedsheet pooling at his waist. Draco rolled onto his front and placed a series of tiny kisses along the length of the scar. When he finished, he looked up at Harry and smiled sheepishly. He wanted to say _there, I kissed it all better_ but the words stubbornly refused to leave his mouth. He could sense that Harry was uncomfortable with the question and not wanting to pressure him into dredging up the past, Draco decided that his curiosity wasn’t worth Harry’s discomfort.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Harry sighed.

“It’s not a particularly pleasant memory, but I’ll tell you anyway. The night of the last task, that was the night Voldemort came back, though if you remember nobody believed me when I said that. Peter Pettigrew performed some Dark Magic ritual and he needed my blood for it, so he sliced me open.”

“Bastard,” Draco growled.

Harry soft smile lessened his anger somewhat.

“He got his punishment.”

Draco nodded.

“That’s true.”

He idly ran his fingers through the thin trail of coarse dark hair that led from Harry’s navel down to his crotch, then glanced up at Harry and let out a soft, content sigh when Harry lifted his hand and combed his fingers through his hair.

Ordinarily, he hated it when anyone messed with his hair but with Harry things were different, he felt a pleasant tingle running from his scalp all the way down to the base of his spine. He shuffled a little and placing his hand on Harry’s chest, he leant in for a kiss but stopped just before his lips brushed against Harry’s.

“Can I have a kiss?” he asked and felt his ears heat when Harry smiled at him.

He was quite sure that his cheeks were red with the embarrassment he felt over having asked for something as simple as a kiss.

“You can always have a kiss. C’mere,” Harry said.

He leant forward to close the small distance between them and Draco pressed his lips against Harry’s, then let Harry draw him deeper into the kiss.

It was a slow and lazy kiss, one that felt familiar and comfortable, the sort of unrushed kiss that made his chest swell with an embarrassingly large amount of fluffy feelings and his toes curl with the anticipation of just a little bit more intensity.

Draco wasn’t sure whether Harry had sensed what he wanted but when Harry traced his lips with his tongue and gently pried them apart, Draco mewled into the kiss and yielded completely. He parted his lips, let Harry’s tongue slither into his mouth and wind itself around his tongue. The butterflies in his stomach fluttered wildly and Draco couldn’t help but moan into Harry’s mouth when he ran his fingers through his hair again.

When they eventually broke apart several minutes later, Draco felt dazed and quite out of sorts but blissfully happy.

He rested his cheek on Harry’s shoulder and keeping his eyes closed, he tried to calm his breathing. He felt Harry’s hand on his back, felt it stroke up and down his spine and sighing softly, Draco opened his eyes and stared at Harry’s chest. He toyed with Harry’s chest hair, loving the slight roughness of it as it tickled his palms, and smiled when his gentle caresses drew a breathy moan from Harry. He spotted another scar, and oval-shaped one, half-hidden underneath Harry’s chest hair and wondered why he hadn’t noticed it before.

_That would be because Harry always fucks with your mind before he fucks you_ , a wicked little voice inside his head answered that thought and Draco chuckled softly, then traced the newly discovered scar.

It was right above Harry’s heart and Draco frowned at it.

“How did you get this one?” he wanted to know.

Harry chuckled and in response, Draco moved his head and looked at him.

“Are you planning to ask about all my scars this morning? Because there’s one on the bottom of my right foot I got when I stepped on a rusty nail while clearing out the attic a few years ago.”

Draco ignored Harry’s sarcastic comment entirely and shook his head instead.

“Not all of them, I know all about that one,” he said and pointed at the lightning bolt-shaped scar hidden underneath Harry’s messy mop of unruly black hair.

“But I don’t know anything about this one.”

Draco turned his attention back to the oval-shaped scar on Harry’s chest. He traced it again.

“I had a run-in with a rather wilful locket,” Harry said after a moment of silence and volunteering only a little amount of information.

Draco frowned at him.

“A locket?”

Harry nodded.

“Yeah, it had a piece of Voldemort’s soul in it. The little fucker just didn’t want to die. Ron eventually stabbed it with the sword of Godric Gryffindor.”

“Weasley stabbed you?”

Draco’s eyes widened and he straightened his back and tensed.

Harry laughed heartily.

“No, silly, he stabbed the locket. I wasn’t wearing it when he did.”

“Ah.”

Draco nodded and feeling relieved, he relaxed back into Harry’s embrace and as Harry shuffled into a slightly more horizontal position, Draco scuttled a little closer and hummed contently. He reached for Harry’s right arm and lacing their fingers together, he squeezed, then spotted a strange looking scar that looked like bite marks.

“This one?” he asked, nodding towards the scar.

“A little disagreement with Voldemort’s pet snake a couple of months before Neville finally killed that nasty beast.”

This time, Harry answered without much hesitation.

“Did you wrestle her?”

“Sort of. She was trying to kill Hermione, so I intervened. Imagine I hadn’t, Ron would be completely lost without—”

Draco chuckled.

“True. Good old Ron needs someone to boss him around the house.”

“You finally called him Ron!” Harry exclaimed.

Draco rolled his eyes. He moved his head and catching the bemused look in Harry’s emerald green eyes, he grinned and pulling Harry’s right arm towards him, he covered the snake bite scar in kisses.

“You didn’t kiss this one better.”

Harry pointed at the scar on his chest and frowning at the ridiculousness of the request, Draco moved to cover the oval-shaped scar over Harry’s heart with plenty of kisses, then rested his head on Harry’s chest.

“How is it that you’re a complete deviant between the sheets but a kneazle when we snuggle?” he mused aloud.

He toyed with Harry’s right hand, weaving their fingers together, then untwisting them again.

“Would you prefer if I was a blast-ended skrewt when we snuggle?” Harry asked with amusement reverberating in his voice.

Draco made a scoffing sound.

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m not a soulless monster, Draco. Just because I like a bit of kinky and rough sex does not mean I’m incapable of enjoying a lazy snuggle with my boyfriend.”

“A bit?”

Draco challenged and lifted his head off Harry’s shoulder.

“More like a whole lot.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Would you like more vanilla sex? Like we had this morning?”

Harry’s teasing made Draco glower at him.

“That was not vanilla, that was you driving me crazy, edging me until I could barely stand it anymore.”

Harry arched an eyebrow at him.

“Are you complaining again? Because compared to what you know I can do to you, that was absolutely vanilla.”

“ _Hmpf_ , I wasn’t complaining this morning and I’m not complaining now, you know that. You wilfully misinterpreted me this morning.”

Harry smirked and Draco decided that the slyness of his smirk was more than mildly concerning.

“That’s good to know, otherwise I’d find myself forced to wilfully misinterpret you again which would result in a strong desire to spank you.”

“You’d find yourself forced?” Draco asked.

This time it was his turn to quirk his eyebrow.

He absolutely couldn’t work out when exactly Harry had become so much less of a Gryffindor and so much more of a Slytherin.

It was quite unnerving.

Harry was together, confident, full of sass, and he had an uncanny ability for worming his way under Draco’s skin and there was nothing he could do about it because Harry was just that little bit too good.

“Well, you see, this relationship is much like a game of chess. You make your move and I react appropriately. For example, if you give me sass, I will spank you. Or, if your hands get a little bit too nimble, I will restrain them. If your mouth gets a little too bratty, I will stuff something inside it to give you more time to think about your words and if I want you to suck my cock, I will make you.”

“Make me?” Draco squeaked.

He frowned at the sound of his own voice and cleared his throat.

“Absolutely. I did before and I will again,” Harry said with a devilish smirk.

“ _Ngh_!”

A strange sound was all Draco managed in response to that and taking a deep breath, he turned his attention back to playing with Harry’s right hand. He ran his thumb over the faint outline of a scar on the back of Harry’s hand and furrowed his brow.

Pulling Harry’s hand closer, he inspected the scar closely.

“I must not tell lies,” he read and looking up at Harry, he frowned a little more. He noticed the scar before but he'd never asked, had never felt confident enough to ask such an intimate question.

Harry regarded him for several minutes, then let out a soft sigh, then answered the question Draco hadn’t asked but wanted an answer to.

“Fifth year. Detention with Umbridge. The bint had a special kind of quill that made you write lines with your own blood. Sadistic wench.”

“You should’ve hexed her.”

Draco found himself growling and bitterly regretted the fact that he had once looked up to that woman and even consorted with her to spy on Harry.

“Oh, believe me, I got my revenge.”

Harry smiled and the wicked glint in his eyes made Draco shudder. To distract himself, he pulled Harry’s hand towards himself, pressed his lips against the faint outline of the scar, Umbridge’s nasty punishment had left behind.

“I _*kiss*_ will _*kiss*_ never _*kiss*_ lie _*kiss*_ to _*kiss*_ you!”

He peppered the back of Harry’s hand with tiny kisses. When he’d finished, he sheepishly looked up at Harry, who stared at him with such intensity that Draco felt his heart skip a massive beat.

Harry reached out to run his left hand through his hair and Draco found himself pushed into the touch. His eyes fluttered closed and he hummed in quiet approval.

Draco fell silent and rested his head on Harry’s chest and for a while, all he did was to listen to Harry’s steady heartbeat thrumming in inside his rib cage as he toyed with Harry’s right hand. He opened his eyes, twisted Harry’s wrist a little and glanced at the Muggle wristwatch, Harry always wore.

It was nearly lunchtime but they’d had a late and very rich breakfast and Draco wasn’t even in the least bit hungry.

He also didn’t want to put on any clothes or leave Harry’s bed.

He didn’t even want to leave the house.

There was something utterly perfect about spending the day in bed with Harry after a morning of endless teasing and kinky love-making. He wanted to stay in their little bubble of bliss for all eternity. He wanted Harry to take care of him, to look after him, just like he had promised. He didn’t want it because he couldn’t look after himself because he could but because it felt good, it felt right.

_I’ll never do anything you don’t want me to_ , Harry words rang in his ears.

The sweet promise of a loving, consensual relationship where they each respected each other’s boundaries and took care of the other’s needs; that was a potently addictive drug and with each passing day, Draco found that he craved it more.

He hungered for the way Harry made him feel when they were together. It was like nobody else mattered and like he was the most important person in Harry’s universe, the only person in Harry’s universe.

He thirsted for that rush Harry gave him when he got bossy and took control and he yearned for the sweet relief at the end of each game, the high, the ecstasy, the love Harry showered him with.

_Little Prince._

Although he hadn’t ever really said it, he’d been livid when Harry had first given him that ridiculous nickname.

Now hearing it did unspeakable things to him.

It made him want to let go and yield to Harry.

It made him want to please Harry and ask for things he couldn’t imagine in his wildest dreams.

That look of pure, unadulterated love in Harry’s eyes and that affectionate tenderness in his voice…

Draco no longer thought that wanting surrender to that, wanting to submit to that glorious power was something to be ashamed of.

Sure, following Harry’s orders still embarrassed him, especially when he asked him to crawl or pushed him to ask for a spanking but by the time Harry made him beg for his release, made him beg to take him, to fuck him, he no longer possessed the ability to feel embarrassed.

There was only this intense rush, this powerful need to obey and he found himself succumbing to it so completely that he could help but think that he should be afraid of what his mind was capable of. Then again, Harry was always there. He never left afterwards, he always took care of him, and that was what made Draco feel so secure, so special and so very loved. Harry made it easy for him to put his trust in him.

“Have you fallen asleep on me?”

Harry’s gentle voice pulled Draco out of his musings and it took him a moment to gather his bearings. He inhaled slowly and lifting his head off Harry’s chest, he turned to look at him.

“No, Sir, just dreaming,” he whispered.

He swallowed when Harry’s eyes instantly darkened. Draco wasn’t entirely sure what had made him address Harry with _Sir_ just now but it had felt so right that he had simply gone with following his instinct instead of giving it a lot of thought.

Harry smiled warmly and Draco’s heart fluttered pleasantly in his chest.

“Carry on then, my little prince.”

Draco inclined his head in a wordless response and placing it back on Harry’s chest, he returned to idly playing with Harry’s right hand, exploring every inch of it.

He toyed with the well-worn leather strap of Harry’s wristwatch, checked the time again but didn’t remember how late it was. He fiddled with the free loops, the buckle tongue, and the buckle and before he knew it, he had undone the buckle and the wristwatch slipped off Harry’s wrist and fell onto the bed.

Draco’s eyes instantly widened and he forced himself to blink but the scar that ran horizontally across Harry’s wrist did not disappear.

Draco closed his eyes for several seconds and took a deep breath.

When he opened his eyes, the scar was still there.

He shuddered and moved to touch the scar but something made him hesitate.

Feeling a bit queasy, he lifted his head off Harry’s chest and looked at him instead.

“This one you keep hidden.”

He whispered the words, not daring to speak any louder. Harry didn’t react. He merely reached for his wristwatch, placed the leather strap around his wrist and buckled it up.

“I don’t like seeing it,” he said with an air of nonchalance that was so fake it twisted Draco’s insides uncomfortably.

“Where did you get this one?”

Draco asked the question rather tentatively, unsure of whether to push the issue or to let it drop.

His mind was reeling and jumping to conclusions.

He couldn’t work out why Harry would have a scar on his wrist, one that he hid from everyone, including himself. There was a story behind it and Draco wanted to know.

“In Canada,” Harry replied.

Instead of looking at him, he stared across the room.

Draco followed his gaze and swallowed hard.

“When?”

“In May 1999. The twelfth of May to be exact.”

Draco’s stomach churned at the preciseness of the response; a date so long ago, yet Harry seemingly remembered it like it had happened only yesterday.

The feeling of unease and queasiness intensified and for a moment, Draco closed his eyes and focused on his breathing.

He wasn’t stupid; he knew the most likely cause of a scar on the inside of a person’s wrist but he did not want to believe that Harry had—

Draco couldn’t even bring himself to finish that thought.

The date though; just ten days after the first anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts.

One year and ten days after the defeat and death of Voldemort.

Had Harry—?

Draco forced himself to open his eyes and sitting up, he reached for Harry’s hand but found it pulled out of his reach.

Instead of trying again, he dropped his own hands into his lap.

“Please?”

Harry didn’t react and only after what felt like close to an eternity, did he finally turn his head and look at him.

His smile had gone and there was a trace of something intensely unpleasant in Harry’s eyes, the remnants of a very unpleasant memory.

It made Draco shudder.

He reached for Harry’s hand and this time Harry didn’t pull it out away, something Draco was more than grateful for.

Wrapping both his hands around Harry’s, Draco squeezed gently, hoping to provide silent comfort through physical touch.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. I can tell it’s a bad memory.”

“It’s alright, Draco.”

Harry reassured him with a soft smile and as he did, the intensely unpleasant trace in his eyes faded away.

“Will you— Can I ask— How did you—?”

Draco didn’t know how to phrase the question and it irked him.

He was excellent at asking questions; he was excellent at asking all the right questions.

That was his job.

A prosecutor who didn’t know how to ask the right questions had the wrong job.

Yet, with Harry, with this, he had absolutely no idea how to go about phrasing his question.

Harry sighed.

“Honestly, I’d rather not,” he said.

_It’s wrong to pry_ , Draco heard his mother’s voice echo in his head but he couldn’t help himself. He wanted to know why Harry had a scar in _that_ place and why he kept it hidden.

The sensible part of him knew to push Harry’s boundaries like that was wrong but the curious and worried part of him, and the part that loved Harry managed to drown out his rational thinking.

“Harry—”

When he spoke, his voice was soft and he squeezed Harry’s hand.

He pushed at the leather strap and exposing the thin scar, he traced it with his fingertip.

Harry hissed but did not pull away.

Draco pulled his hand closer, lowered his head and pressed his lips to the scar.

Harry made a strange sound, an odd mixture between a sigh and a hiss, but still didn’t pull away.

Draco kissed the centre of the scar softly, then covered the entire length of it with tiny kisses.

When he pulled away, he found Harry staring at him with an unreadable expression.

There was a fire in his eyes that Draco had never seen before.

He found it both unnerving and strangely alluring and before he could stop himself the question had slipped past his lips.

“Did you try to kill yourself that day?”

Harry’s eyes widened and Draco wasn’t sure whether it was surprise or fear but whatever had forced Harry’s reaction vanished, hidden under a mask of indifference that rivalled the Occlumency skills of even the most gifted wizard.

Draco frowned.

A part of him wanted to let go of Harry’s hand and another part wanted to grab Harry by the shoulders, shake him hard and yell at him, _how could you have been stupid enough to try that_ —

“No, Draco, I did not try to kill myself.”

Harry’s flat statement cut right through Draco’s thoughts and he alternated between blinking and staring at Harry.

It took several deep breaths before he found his ability to speak again.

“Please, don’t lie,” he pleaded. “I need— I think, I need— please, tell me the truth.”

Harry gave a hollow laugh and pulling his hand away, he pointed at the faint trace of the five words etched into the back of his right hand.

“I must not tell lies, Draco, believe me, that message sank in a long time ago.”

After a moment of hesitation, Draco decided to throw caution into the wind and asked the question outright.

“How did you get the scar on your wrist?”

Harry regarded him for the longest time, then sighed deeply.

“I told you I’d rather not talk—”

Draco couldn’t help it, he cut Harry off mid-sentence.

“I need to know, please. My mind is going crazy. ‘ _I did not try to kill myself_ ’ is not good enough,” he blatantly pushed.

“Draco—”

Harry’s voice carried a warning undertone, one that said drop it, but Draco stubbornly shook his head and insisted.

“No, no, no, I need to know.”

“You need to know, so I must tell you?”

Draco nodded. He knew he was childishly sulky about getting to the bottom of the story behind Harry’s scar but he simply needed to know.

Harry chuckled.

“You realise that makes no sense, right?”

Draco nodded again.

“But you’re not going to let this rest?”

Draco nodded for the third time and Harry sighed.

“Fine,” he relented.

Instead of continuing to talk, he, however, ran his thumb repeatedly over the scar, then reached for his wristwatch and moved to cover up the scar.

“I don’t cover the scar with my watch not because I’m embarrassed about it or don’t want to others to see it but because I tend to touch it when I see it and when I touch it, I go to a bad place,” Harry said, then fell silent.

Draco wanted to push him to continue but he knew better and this time he patiently waited.

Harry kept silent for a few minutes, then suddenly asked a question that made Draco frown.

“I told you about subspace, didn’t I?” he asked.

Despite his confusion, Draco chose to nod.

“Marvellous little chemical reaction in your brain makes for a mind-blowing experience or so I’ve been repeatedly told. It’s supposed to be like an explosion in your head, a complete high, supposedly quite addictive too. Can’t imagine why.”

He said the last words with a chuckle and his eyes momentarily twinkled, then he became serious again.

Draco frowned.

“Why are we talking about—”

“Shush.”

Harry shook his head and when he placed a single finger across his lips, Draco fell silent.

“You’ve been there a few times, I think. Or at least very close. I could push you a little harder and you’d slip right into it and probably not come out for a couple of hours—”

Harry trailed off again and when he pulled him into his arms, Draco came willingly. He snuggled against Harry’s body and throwing one arm over Harry’s chest, he shuffled as close as he possibly could.

“A couple of months after we, that is Andromeda, Teddy and I, arrived in Canada, I met this guy. He was a good few years older than me, quite handsome too, devilishly so. Muggle, but a complete charmer. I found him irresistible. He pulled the rug from under my feet, so to speak. I was in a bit of a strange place after the war. Andromeda had found a mind healer for me and the talking helped. There were also potions, I didn’t like them much but they truly helped me to make space in my head and focus on talking things through with my mind healer. Mind you, I didn’t feel like myself half the time—”

“Dreamless Sleep, Daily Calming Draught, Daily Anti-Anxiety Elixir, Mood-Enhancing Tonic, and a Mood-Stabilising Potion,” Draco mumbled, reciting the names of magical mind-altering potions without much difficulty.

Harry nodded.

“Yes, it was a nice cocktail. Anyways, like I said, this guy, David was his name, he charmed me and I was blind with attraction. I thought I was in love with him but I was only eighteen and he was my first proper boyfriend after I realised that I prefer the male gender over the female one so I never said those words to him. I wasn’t quite in the right frame of mind to make decisions and happily took a backseat whenever we were together. It didn’t take long for David to get the wrong impression and before I knew it, I found myself handcuffed, restraint or bound to the bed and well that’s how we had sex most of the time—”

Harry paused and Draco was glad when he felt Harry’s hand run up and down his spine, soothing him.

He felt pathetic.

Harry was telling him a story that had left him with a misleading scar on his wrist yet instead of providing comfort, he was letting Harry comfort him.

“Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?”

Harry chuckled and Draco tilted his head to look at Harry’s face.

“A little, perhaps,” he offered, unsure whether to smile or not but doing so anyway.

“But you didn’t coerce me into having sex with you while my hands are tied to the bed. I’m also not on any mind-altering potions. I made the decision to give up control consciously and I have no regrets about it.”

Harry smiled warmly and his eyes sparkled with an intense emotion that resulted in Draco’s heart skipping a beat or two.

“I like having you in my arms like this, it’s comforting.”

Draco frowned; confusion etched all over his face.

“How did you— Why—?”

“You’re lying in my arms; don’t you think I can’t feel it when you suddenly turn into a steel rod? Words can comfort, I find the touch of a person I love just as comforting and I appreciate you lying in bed, snuggling with me. Anyways, on with the story. Somehow, having my hands tied to the bed just didn’t feel right, it didn’t feel like it was something that I wanted but whenever I tried to tell David, he just told me a whole load of bullshit about how I just needed to focus and that I was holding back and not submitting to him like I should—”

Harry paused for a moment and Draco hummed contently when he felt Harry’s fingers in his hair.

“I want to steal a kiss from those pretty lips of yours,” Harry whispered.

“Steal away,” Draco smiled.

They shared a leisurely kiss that ended with Draco flat on his back and Harry on top of him. Draco wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck and pulled him down for yet another kiss and for a while they didn’t do any talking.

After a while of unhurried and lazy snogging, Harry pulled away and continued with his story.

“I feel like I should clarify that David wasn’t into BDSM or anything, well not really anyway. He seemed to get off on the fact that he had me restrained and that he was in control, which is not how it works. It got to the point where I just couldn’t do it anymore. As for how I got the scar, I did it trying to get out of a pair of steel handcuffs. I was blind with panic and didn’t think about using magic. The metal sliced right through my skin and halfway to the bone like a hot knife through butter. When I saw the blood, I finally remembered that I am a wizard and used magic to free myself and disapparate. Andromeda healed the cut but by the time she got her hands on some Dittany, it was a little too late. I was quite disturbed by the whole experience and because I felt too embarrassed to talk to the mind healer about it, I got in touch with Charlie. Mainly because at the time he was the only other gay wizard I knew… Thus, started a wonderful journey of self-discovery.”

Harry smiled and before Draco could open his mouth to say anything or voice his opinion about Harry’s scar, he found Harry’s lips on his own and they kissed for several long minutes. Draco didn’t have any objections whatsoever.

When Harry eventually pulled away again, Draco was breathless and just a little dizzy.

Grateful to be lying down, he smiled up at Harry and felt relieved, then something in his mind clicked and he frowned.

“Were you and Charlie—?”

“Fuck no!”

Harry interjected before he could even finish that question. He looked quite appalled at the mere idea.

“Never, not once. Friends, always only friends. I watched him do scenes, but I never participated and he and I never had a sexual relationship.”

“Caleb?” Draco asked although he was quite sure he knew the answer already.

Harry laughed.

“What do you think?”

“Platonic friends.”

Draco answered the question without thinking.

“I knew you were smart,” Harry smiled and when he placed a big slobbery kiss on his nose, Draco frowned and growled.

“Uh, should I be scared? Are you finally showing your claws in bed, little pet?” Harry teased.

“Not today,” Draco said.

He trailed his hands over Harry’s shoulders and down his arms, then resolutely moved them above his head and crossed them at the wrist.

“Thank you for telling me, Harry,” he whispered.

He shuddered when that fiery darkness crept back into Harry’s eyes and he pinned him to the mattress with such intensity that Draco felt light-headed and dizzy and just a little out of sorts again. He opened his mouth to say something but Harry crashed his mouth onto his and claimed his lips in a bruising and possessive kiss.

Draco moaned into the kiss and felt his cock stir as Harry began to rock his hips.

He somehow managed to wrench his mouth away and gasping for air, he arched his back to meet Harry’s rocking hips.

“I don’t want gentle, I want rough, I want you to take me, mark me. Make me yours, Sir. Make it so all I’ll remember is your name,” he whispered.

This time it was Harry’s turn to growl.

“With pleasure, my little prince.”


	39. Meeting Molly (Will The Real Saviour Please Stand Up)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)   
>    
> 
> 
> I'd planned to post this chapter early this morning since it's sports day at school and the kids have a bunch of activities to keep them busy, then I got distracted taking photos with the kids and making beautiful videos with all the photos (after editing them, of course).
> 
> Now I'm exhausted, in dire need of a large cup of coffee and quite fed up with my spellchecker.
> 
> I've yet to catch up with responding to comments and this will happen at some point _after_ I've had industrial-strength coffee to restore my sanity. In the meantime, please enjoy another chapter.
> 
> I don't think this chapter requires me getting up on my soapbox to leave a long Author's Note but other chapters most definitely will.
> 
> **Once again, a _million thanks_** for your continued support of this story and all your lovely comments. I'm not sure if you can fathom exactly how much your comments mean to me but I'll endeavour to explain a little: they may me laugh (in the best possible away), they give me all the feels (again, in the best possible way), and they can manage to pull be out of a slump. They are encouraging, inspiring, and sometimes they even keep me sane. So, you are truly wonderful souls and I heart everything single one of you.
> 
> There's no such a thing as a comment that's too long, I enjoy reading every single one of them and hearing your thoughts, I absolutely do. Thank you!
> 
> Now...enough of all that sentimental stuff already, I know you're dying to read the chapter. I'll let you go, grudgingly but I will.

* * *

“I want to tell that you’re being a bit silly but I am actually scared you’ll hex my balls off if I say the words to your face,” Harry chided affectionately.

He slid his fingers along the side of Draco’s neck and caressed his cheek with his thumb in a gesture he knew Draco found comforting.

Draco let out a soft sigh, pushed into the touch, and as his eyes fluttered closed, Harry drew him in for a reassuring little kiss. It was chaste and gentle and just the right kind of thing to ease some of the worries he knew Draco had about meeting his adopted family for the first time since the end of the war.

They’d made it to Ottery St. Catchpole without incident and had slowly walked through the small village in amicable silence. They now were a mere five-minute walk away from the front door of the Burrow and the house was so close that Harry thought he could smell dinner. He knew that was ridiculous but he always felt like that whenever he was on his way to the Weasley Residence. The house had a distinctly magical pull to it and it wasn’t because wizards and witches lived in it but because it held a special place in Harry’s heart. There were so many good memories, so much laughter and joy — each time he visited his feet carried him straight to the front door out of their own accord.

Draco, who looked a little green in the face, had suddenly stopped walking and now refused to take another step towards the very place Harry considered his second home. It wasn’t because he was trying to be difficult on purpose but simply because he was scared and Harry couldn’t begrudge him that feeling.

Since apparating into Ottery St. Catchpole and strolling through the quaint little English village, Draco had somehow managed to convince himself that Molly Weasley was the scariest witch on the planet and so far, Harry had yet to succeed in convincing him otherwise. Mainly because he wasn’t sure how do accomplish that feat without lying through his teeth and he couldn’t bring himself to do that.

When she wanted to be, Molly Weasley could indeed be a very scary witch but he figured telling Draco that was counterproductive to getting him to agree to set a foot into the house — if anything, it was bound to make him run the other way and fast.

Gently pulling away from the kiss, Harry turned his head and cast a longing glance at the Burrow. He felt his stomach wamble with hunger and swallowed a sigh.

Molly had owled yesterday to tell him that she’d made treacle tart and he was dying for a large slice of his favourite dessert. He also hoped that there would be warm custard. A bit of treacle tart dipped in warm custard simply was the best treat there was.

Harry resolutely pushed the thought of his favourite dessert to the back of his mind and focused back on Draco. It had taken him two weeks to persuade Draco, who’d initially rejected the idea outright, to even consider a visit to the Burrow and after plenty of relatively dubious forms of bribery, he’d finally wormed himself far enough underneath Draco’s skin to make it virtually impossible for him to disagree. He felt just a little miffed over the fact that Draco chose now to get cold feet but he maturely swallowed his mild annoyance and decided to be the bigger man — pushing Draco or telling him not to be childish wasn’t going to get him anywhere.

“I’ll promise you; it’ll be fine.”

Harry made another gentle attempt at convincing Draco to jump over his own shadow. He squeezed Draco’s slightly trembling hand a little tighter and let his hand slide down Draco’s back. There Harry rested it on his lower back and pulled Draco a little closer.

Autumn was rapidly turning into winter and temperatures were low and uncomfortable. Out in the countryside, the wind was biting cold and it made Harry shudder slightly. He doubted Draco felt warm.

Harry absolutely did not want to stand outside the Burrow in this kind of weather. He wanted to go inside, take off his jacket, and enjoy the cosy warmth of the house while he stuffed his face with treacle tart and listened to Teddy excitedly telling him all about his teachers and Muggle friends at primary school.

“The woman blew up my aunt Bellatrix, she’s the epitome of terrifying.”

Draco mumbled the words under his breath and his face turned a shade greener.

Harry suddenly sorely regretted not plying him with a calming draught before leaving Grimmauld Place.

For a moment, he considered lying to Draco after all but dismissed the idea almost instantly. Instead, he decided to bare one of his own weaknesses to Draco. Honesty had gotten him this far with Draco and he was confident that it would also get him the rest of the way.

“Would it make you feel better to know that Molly terrifies me too?”

Draco frowned at him.

“You survived the Killing Curse twice and like to dominate me in the bedroom. I think I know a fib when I see one.”

Harry laughed heartily.

“It’s not a fib. Ron’s terrified of her too. As is Charlie. Arthur would never dream about talking back to his wife, or if he does, he’s never done it in my presence or with any of the kids around to witness it. Bill is the only exception, really, but then again, he’s married to a woman who is part Veela and Fenrir Greyback attacked him during the war. There’s not much that scares him or anything. George hides behind his practical jokes and his wife and Ginny is somewhat of a free spirit, she doesn’t care what anyone says. Besides, since she is the only girl in the family, she gets away with murder.”

Draco only frowned harder.

“And this is supposed to make me feel better how? You’ve basically just told me that Molly Weasley scares more than half of her own family.”

“My godson Teddy isn’t scared of her either.”

Draco rolled his eyes.

“He’s a child, they don’t know what fear is.”

Harry wanted to sigh but when he noted the small smile that was insistently tugging at the corners of Draco’s mouth, he leapt at the opportunity.

“Then why are you smiling?” he asked.

Before Draco could glare daggers at him, he swiftly pulled him into a heated and very much distracting kiss.

“You’re fierce in the courtroom, be fierce now,” he whispered against Draco’s lips, then kissed him again.

“I’m not fierce around you,” Draco mumbled, a feeble attempt at throwing up a tiny bit of resistance.

“Yes, you are, you’re my ferocious little prince,” Harry said.

“I told you it takes guts to trust someone enough to willingly surrender to them the way you surrender to me.”

“Why weren’t you such a charmer back in our sixth year? I’d have taken my clothes off and asked you to fuck me instead of trying to throw the Cruciatus Curse at you when you followed me into the bathroom.”

Harry pulled away, quirked an eyebrow at Draco and smirked.

“Are you trying to tell me that you fancied me in our sixth year?”

“No, fourth. You riding that broom to escape the dragon did strange things to my temperamental teenage libido.”

Draco instantly blushed crimson and averted his eyes in embarrassment — he clearly hadn’t meant to confess that.

Harry laughed.

“Oh wow,” he said.

“This is— Fuck me, Draco Malfoy, this has to be the hottest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

“And I thought the hottest thing you ever heard me say was me begging _please, Sir, I need to come_ ,” Draco said with an air of nonchalance that instantly drove Harry wild.

He couldn’t quite fathom how Draco managed to go from making an embarrassing confession about his teenage wet dreams to being this sassy in the space of several seconds. The unexpectedness of it all was a bit too much to handle and his mind was reeling with a sudden avalanche of extremely X-rated thoughts.

Harry forced himself to take a deep breath and schooling his expression, he fixed Draco with leering eyes.

He watched Draco swallow hard and grinned, slightly pleased that he’d gotten to him.

“Let’s combine your dirty little teenage fantasy with mine, shall we? You in your Slytherin uniform, bend over a desk in a classroom, hands tied behind your back, legs spread and bound to the desk, and my cock shoved all the way up your tight little hole, then you begging me to allow you to come while I fuck you hard— Hm, yes, definitely hot.”

“And who are you in this scenario? My teacher?” Draco asked.

Harry at once noted that his voice sounded a little higher than usual.

“Do you want me to be?” he asked with a lopsided grin.

“And what if I spank you hard with a riding crop before I fuck and while I fuck you? Will you be begging _Professor Potter, no more detention please!_ ”

“Harry—” Draco breathed.

“We’re about to have dinner with Molly Weasley, could you please stop being so fucking filthy? Giving me a boner isn’t going to get me to set a foot into the house.”

Harry smirked.

Draco’s eyes told him everything he needed to know.

The idea of role-playing professor and student rather excited him. If he was honest, which he had no problem being, it excited Harry too. He did, however, acknowledge that Draco was right. It wouldn’t do for them to spot raging erections while walking into the Burrow and they absolutely didn’t have time for a quick naughty romp behind a tree — it was also far too cold for that kind of action. The mere idea of getting his cock out in the open in this kind of temperature made Harry shudder.

“Fine, I’ll restrain myself until we get back to mine,” he said casually, then pulled Draco close for yet another kiss.

“But tonight, when I get you home, and this I promise you, I’m going to have my wicked way with you,” he whispered.

Draco let out a breathless whimper in response to that.

“You should have been in Slytherin,” he said when Harry tugged on his hand and they finally resumed their walk towards to Burrow.

“I know, the Sorting Hat thought so too. I didn’t think I’d be able to keep my hands off you though, so I asked him to sort me into Gryffindor instead. Seems like the only difference it made was to delay the inevitable.”

“You—” Draco started but trailed off when the front door to the Burrow opened and a little boy with bright blue hair stormed out.

“Harry, Harry, Harry!”

Teddy squealed excitedly and temporarily letting go of Draco’s hand, Harry had just about enough time to open his arms wide. He caught Teddy, who ran at him with full force and threw both arms around him. Harry momentarily staggered a little, then lifted Teddy up into the air and spun him around several times before expertly balancing him on one hip.

“Hello little man,” he grinned.

“Hullo,” Teddy laughed.

He then promptly turned his hair black.

Harry ruffled it affectionately and then turned towards Draco, who had taken a step back and looked a bit stunned at the blatant display of affection between him and his godson.

“Teddy, meet Draco. He’s my friend and your cousin.”

Teddy frowned.

“My cousin?” he asked.

Harry nodded.

“Yes, Nana Tonks and Draco’s mother are sisters, so that makes you and Draco cousins.”

“Ah.”

Teddy nodded with a rather peculiar expression and turned his hair blue again, however, this time it was more turquoise than bright blue.

“Will you be nice and say hi?” Harry asked.

He could tell that Teddy had no interest in an ancestry lesson and decided to stop plying him with information he didn’t care for.

“Hi Draco,” Teddy said.

He lifted one arm off Harry’s shoulder and waved somewhat shyly.

Draco smiled.

“Hi Teddy, it’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I’ve heard nothing about you,” Teddy replied.

Harry snorted. He warily glanced into Draco’s direction but felt relieved when he found him smiling.

“Do you and Harry work together?” Teddy asked.

Draco nodded.

“Erm, yes, sometimes,” he said.

Harry smirked.

_Nice catch_ , he praised and moving towards the door he motioned for Draco to follow him. They made it just over the threshold and Harry was about to kick the front door shut when he noted the way Draco had uncomfortably straightened up. He had wrapped his right hand tightly around his left forearm and dug his fingernails through the fabric of his jacket into the marked skin beneath. His back was ramrod straight and he had squared his shoulders.

Harry followed Draco’s gaze and when his eyes settled on Andromeda, he sighed.

He had completely forgotten to warn Draco about how much Teddy’s grandmother still resembled Bellatrix Lestrange, at first glance anyway and especially when one looked at her from a distance.

These days she had short, shoulder-length hair, which did not compare to her dead sister’s long wild bushy tail of black hair but her face still carried an uncanny likeness.

Harry had long since grown accustomed to it and it didn’t bother him much anymore but he could sense that Draco probably felt like he had seen a ghost.

The ghost of his crazed aunt.

Knowing that attempting to put Teddy down would result in very vocal objections, Harry adjusted his grip and precariously balancing his godson on his hip, he reached out to place his hand on Draco’s shoulder.

He felt him flinch and swallowed a sigh.

“It’s alright, Draco, it’s not her,” he said softly.

The tension in the room was thick and shooting Andromeda a rather helpless glance, Harry watched as she gently set her teacup down and casually showed Draco the palms of both her hands to let him know that she wasn’t concealing her wand.

She approached slowly but instead of extending her hand, she merely smiled.

“Hello Draco, I’m Andromeda Tonks, your mother’s sister,” she said softly. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Several moments of uncomfortable silence passed by, then Draco slowly relaxed.

“I’m sorry, you look just like her,” Draco said.

Harry squeezed his shoulder again, offering comfort.

Andromeda chuckled.

“Don’t I just? Would you believe it, the first time Harry here saw me, he tried to hex me? Took a couple of minutes before he believed I wasn’t Bella.”

“I did,” Harry nodded and squeezed Draco’s shoulder one last time, then withdrew.

Now that Andromeda had come closer, she absolutely looked a lot less like Bellatrix and he thought that Draco would be just fine.

“Nana Tonks looks like who?” Teddy wanted to know.

“My younger sister, sweetheart, you haven’t met her,” Andromeda answered with a warm smile.

“Will you come down from Harry’s arm already, you’re a big boy and far too heavy,” she then chided affectionately.

“Harry doesn’t mind,” Teddy replied defiantly.

“But I do, and I'm your Nana, so please behave yourself Teddy Lupin.”

Andromeda gave her grandson a pointed look and he grumbled something about the unfair treatment of children that made Harry chuckle. He let Teddy slide off his hip and crouching down, he took both of Teddy’s small hands into his own.

“Will you sit next to me at dinner? I’ll have Draco to my left and you to my right, it’ll be perfect. What do you think? Can we do that?”

“Can I steal your food?” Teddy asked.

“You can ask nicely and I’ll share with you.”

“Will you share with me too?”

Draco piped up from behind him and turning his head, Harry looked up at him. He had an unnervingly smug expression on his face.

“Not a chance in hell, Malfoy,” Harry said quite firmly.

Andromeda clicked her tongue disapprovingly. He shot her an apologetic look, then got back to his feet and ruffled Teddy’s hair which turned black under his touch. Every time Teddy changed his hair colour to match his own, Harry’s heart skipped a beat, especially because Teddy had only recently started to learn how to consciously control the colour of his hair. He still struggled with it when he felt emotional but most of the time his hair colour reflected his current mood or had something to do with the situation.

“You finally convinced your man to meet Molly then, huh?” Andromeda asked with a smirk.

“She’s been strangely excited all afternoon, hasn’t talked about much else since Teddy and I got here.”

“Well that’s good to know, Draco is a bit terrified of her.”

“Hey!”

Draco objected though Harry was pleased to note that there was no bite to his bark.

Throwing his arm around Draco’s shoulder, Harry pulled him into a half-hug but conscious of the fact that Teddy was still standing in front of him, he resisted pressing a kiss to Draco’s temple.

_Later_ , he thought.

Andromeda smiled.

“Don’t worry, Draco, we’re all terrified of Molly Weasley. Nobody dares to enter the kitchen when she’s in there, well, at least not without explicit permission, that’s her dragon’s lair.”

“Good to know,” Draco said.

He gracefully ducked out of his half-hug and Harry let him.

“Why are you scared of aunt Molly, Draco?” Teddy asked with a frown. “She’s lovely, she always gives me an extra piece of chocolate cake. If you want, I can help you ask her for some.”

Harry chuckled.

“Excellent idea, Teddy. Will you go and get Draco some chocolate cake? He loves dessert as much as you do.”

“No problem!”

Teddy grinned and dashed off.

“There you go, I paved the way for you. Just eat Molly’s dessert, tell her how much you like it and she’ll love you forever,” Harry smiled.

He leant in and with Teddy gone off to find Draco some chocolate cake, he boldly kissed Draco on the cheek.

When Draco blushed, he winked.

“Ah, young love,” Andromeda said.

Draco blushed a little harder.

“And don’t listen to Harry, if you’ll eat dessert before dinner, Molly will have your head.”

“Good to know. Nice to see you trying to feed me to the wolves, Potter,” Draco said.

When he turned to glower at him, Harry found himself fighting the urge to push Draco against the door and snog him senseless. There was just something about that look in Draco’s eyes that made his nether regions instantly respond inappropriately. It also made him want to do unspeakable things to Draco.

Andromeda grinned and her eyes sparkled so brightly that her expression instantly took years off her. She looked so much younger. As she smiled her Slytherin humour came out to play and Harry instantly knew that between her and Draco he didn't stand a chance. It didn't stop him from being determined to hold his ground though.

“He’s a Gryffindor, Draco, what do you expect? Stick with me, us fellow Slytherins look out for each other.”

Draco chuckled.

“You know what, I think I will. Those Gryffindors simply cannot be trusted.”

“My point exactly.”

Glancing back and forth between Draco and Andromeda, Harry shook his head.

“Fabulous, two Slytherins ganging up on me. I’m just going to head over there and hang out with my fellow Gryffindors,” he said, but inwardly he felt extremely proud.

He knew that tonight wasn’t easy for Draco but he could tell that he was trying to build bridges and it was just yet another reminder of how much Draco had changed overall. Harry felt his chest swell with pride and the warm fuzzy feeling of love flowed through him as he left Draco with Andromeda and headed over to the dining room table to join Hermione and Ron.

“I see Malfoy is bonding with his estranged family,” Ron said as he sat down and Harry nodded.

“I’ve been told to leave them alone on the grounds that I wasn’t in Slytherin,” he grinned. “Trust Andromeda to play that card. At the rate she’s going it wouldn’t surprise me if Teddy ends up in Slytherin when he finally gets his Hogwarts letter.”

Hermione chuckled.

“With you as a godfather that’s more than likely.”

Ron rolled his eyes.

“I’ve another question altogether. Why do they love their dungeons so much? It’s cold, dark, and mouldy down there.”

“There’s nothing wrong with a nice dungeon, thank you very much.”

Harry crossed his arms on the table and defiantly held Ron’s gaze until he flushed and looked away.

“Yes, well, I wasn’t talking about the kind of dungeons you and Malfoy like,” Ron grumbled.

“To be honest, I prefer playrooms to dungeons and so does D—”

“I’m going to help mum in the kitchen.”

Ron announced loudly and scraping his chair back, he got up and left.

Harry grinned and Hermione sighed and gave him a stern look that made him feel mildly uncomfortable.

“Do you always have to push his buttons like that?” she asked.

Harry raised his hands in mock-surrender.

“He makes it so frightfully easy. Besides, we’ve been mates long enough to muck about with each other like that.”

“Take it easy on him, Harry, he’s not as confident as you might think. I know my husband.”

Harry smiled.

“You’re biased, ‘Mione, that’s the wife in you talking. Your man is resilient.”

“I know he is. But he’s just not as outspoken about sex as you are. Those innuendos do make him uncomfortable; you know.”

“Duly noted, I’m off to apologise,” Harry said and rose to his feet.

Hermione reached for his arm and tried to stop him.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

Harry smiled reassuringly.

He wrapped his arms around her and engulfed her in a hug before kissing the top of her head.

“Mother hen,” he whispered and she chuckled.

“Be off already!”

“What is it with you always flirting with women when I’m around? Are you trying to tell me something?”

Draco queried as he curiously looked back and forth between them both and Harry laughed.

He heard Andromeda chuckle in the background.

“I wasn’t flirting. Ask Hermione, if you can bear being around an ex-Gryffindor, that is. Now, if you please excuse me, I’ve got to go and talk to a man about a dungeon.”

Harry grinned and when Draco frowned at him, he blew him a kiss and vanished into the direction of the kitchen where he found Ron doing the dishes while his mother finished cooking.

He grabbed a fresh dry kitchen towel and when Ron finished rinsing the pot in his hands, he quietly took it and began to dry it.

“Does Hermione still insist on doing the dishes the Muggle way?” he asked and shooting him a sideways glance, Ron nodded.

“I’m so used to it, I think I forgot all the household charms mum taught me when Hermione and I first got married,” he said.

Harry smiled.

“I’m sorry, you know, for making you uncomfortable just now.”

Ron chuckled.

“Did my lovely wife put you up to this? She does tend to do that.”

“You know she did, but honestly, I mean it,” Harry said.

He took another pot from Ron and began to dry that one too.

“It’s alright, I need to get over myself, really.”

“No, you don’t. I like you just the way you are. One of us has got to be the quirky one who likes doing things his own way.”

“Gee, thanks, mate. Make sure Malfoy doesn’t hear any of this. I’d hate for him to think we’re having an affair or something like that. He’d probably rip me apart.”

Harry laughed.

“He already gave out to me for flirting with Hermione.”

“Wait, what? You were flirting with my wife?”

“Oh yes, absolutely, I do it all the time, don’t you know? It’s called kissing and hugging your best friend. You know, the one who is married to your other best friend and whom you have absolutely no feelings for because she absolutely is the wrong gender…”

“Gotcha, Potter.”

Ron smirked and Harry groaned.

“I’m surrounded by closeted Slytherins.”

Ron rolled his eyes.

“Like you aren’t one yourself. At least I didn’t bargain with the Sorting Hat like the sneaky snake we all know you are.”

Harry was about to retort something but Molly cut in before he could.

“Harry, dear, leave those dishes to Ronald, won’t you? If you want to help, you can set the table instead, then bring that boyfriend of yours to me so I can take a good look at him.”

“Sure, Mrs Weasley,” Harry smiled and winked at her when she frowned.

“Away with you, boy. Worse than my own kids, you are! I’ll give you Mrs Weasley…” she grumbled, waving her wand and spatula at him.

Harry dashed out of the kitchen before she got any other ideas.

He made his way back into the spacious living area come dining room and drawing his wand, he summoned an array of colourful dishes from one of the cabinets and carefully levitated them to the table. As they landed, Hermione rose from her seat and began to lay them out, while Harry opened the cutlery drawer to count out eight sets of knives, forks, and spoons. He carried them to the table and was about to start placing them with the dishes when Draco gently took them from him.

“Might as well make myself useful,” he said with a smile.

There was that warm rush of love again, it filled Harry’s chest until it felt like his heart was about to burst through his rib cage. He leant in, placed a chaste kiss on Draco’s lips, then pulled back and grinned lopsidedly.

“You don’t have to, you know.”

“I know. I want to.”

“ _Ngh_ , don’t make it so easy to fall in love with you or I may have to start keeping you locked up in a cage, lest someone tries to steal you away. I’m very possessive, you know.”

Draco smirked. He had that mischievous twinkle in his eyes, the one that did unspeakable things to Harry's sanity.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed. You might want to try a little harder.”

“Have I been too lax with you?” Harry asked, his voice low and husky as he followed Draco around the table, watching him lay out the cutlery.

Draco laughed and placed another spoon on the table.

“I have the feeling that there is no right answer to this question, they’ll all get me into trouble.”

Harry grinned.

“Slippery slithering Slytherin snake.”

Draco chuckled.

“You love it, Potter. Now try and say that three times in a row and really fast.”

“I actually do, Malfoy,” Harry said.

He pointedly ignored Draco’s attempt to get him to embarrass himself by trying to recite a silly tongue twister and waited patiently until Draco finished laying out the last set of cutleries before he slipped his hand into Draco’s and pulled him away from the table.

“Come on, Molly wants to meet you, she’s waiting for us,” he said, tugging Draco towards the kitchen.

That one sentence was enough to make Draco freeze and Harry almost tripped on one of the colourful homemade rugs on the ground as Draco dug his heels in and refused to budge.

Harry swallowed a sigh and turning around, he stood in front of Draco and cupped his face.

“Relax, I’ll be right beside you. She just wants to take a good look at you.”

“She knows what I look like.”

“She hasn’t seen you since the Battle of Hogwarts. She didn’t go to any of the trials.”

Draco frowned.

“Why?”

“Fred. She didn’t leave the house for almost a year after he died. It hit her hard, she still doesn’t like talking about it. George says she sometimes calls him Fred. He never corrects her.”

“I’m still scared,” Draco mumbled. “As I said, she blew up my aunt.”

“She won’t blow you up, she knows I love you. Come on, be as brave as when you and I are alone together,” Harry tempted and focused on Draco.

He held his gaze, then slowly slid his hands along Draco’s neck, over his shoulders, down his arms and to his wrists. He took both of Draco’s hands into his own and pushing his fingertips underneath the sleeves of Draco’s shirt, he gently circled them over the pulse points.

“You can do this,” he encouraged.

Draco scoffed.

“Are you trying to hypnotise me again, Potter?” Draco asked quietly, though there was no malice in his voice.

“If only I knew how,” Harry said with a small sigh. “Just trying to help you relax, that’s all.”

“That, whatever it is that you’re doing when you circle your thumbs over my wrists, it does unspeakable things to me,” Draco admitted quietly, his voice barely a whisper.

“Yeah?” Harry asked and felt his body react when Draco’s cheeks pinked up a little and he nodded shyly.

“Maybe I’ll do more unspeakable things to you when we get home later and it’s just the two of us.”

Draco opened his mouth to respond but Molly’s shrill voice echoing through the house, cut him off.

“Harry James Potter, stop hiding that boyfriend of yours and bring him here at once!”

“Yes, Molly, coming!”

Harry answered her call and with an apologetic shrug, he dragged a mildly protesting Draco into the kitchen with him.

“Here we are, Molly,” he said and as they stood next to each other in the kitchen doorway, Harry slipped his hand into Draco’s and squeezed tight.

_For a little bit of moral support, my little prince_ , he thought, _for both you and me_.

Molly turned around and drying her hands on a dishcloth, she’d stuffed into the front pocket of her apron, she gave them both an appraising once-over. The kind that made even the hair at the back of Harry’s neck stand up. Draco’s hand had gone a bit cold and clammy in his and Harry squeezed a little tighter.

“Ah, finally. It’s about time you show your face in my house, Mr Malfoy,” Molly said.

Her voice gave absolutely nothing away. Neither did her face. Harry resisted the urge to shuffle uncomfortably and chanced a look at Draco’s face.

He had gone quite pale and—

“You know, Mr Malfoy, in my day, one didn’t go making announcements in the newspapers before meeting the parents. That boy there, is, for all intents and purposes, my son, and I love him dearly. I hope you understand that.”

Molly continued speaking before Harry was able to finish his thoughts and looking away from Draco, he focused on Molly.

“Y— ye—yes, Ma’am,” Draco answered quietly and Harry squeezed his hand again.

He could tell that Draco was trying his best to appear stoic.

“Molly, that wasn’t his decision. You know I had to sit down with the Prophet after they published all those snapshots of us,” Harry said.

He tried his best not to squirm when Molly fixed her eyes upon him and gave him a long hard look.

“In my day we didn’t behave like that in public either, Harry. No wonder you got the photographers interested what with all that kissing and hugging out in the open. Young people, these days. Not a single ounce of self-restraint. I really do wonder where all your manners have gone. Mr Malfoy, I would have expected better from you what with your upbringing.”

“I’m sorry, Ma’am,” Draco apologised, sounding rather subdued.

“Molly, please,” Harry pleaded.

He just about managed to resist the intense urge to take a step back when she placed both her hands on her hips and gave him a truly menacing look.

“Please, _what_?” she asked.

Harry snapped his mouth shut and decided whatever he’d been about to say simply wasn’t worth it. Molly Weasley was a force of nature and there wasn’t anything or anyone in the entire universe that could best her.

“Mrs Weasley, if I may say something?”

Draco spoke softly. He sounded more like the boy, Harry had never really known, or at least not as well as he often hoped he had than the young man he was.

Molly took her hands off her hips and crossed them in front of her ample bosom.

“What with my history and my father’s horrible misdeeds as well as my own flawed decisions, I know you probably don’t have the best opinion of me, but let me assure you that—”

“I have no opinion of you, Mr Malfoy, I don’t know you. It’s called a blank slate, Mr Malfoy. As a barrister, I am sure you have heard of the term and if our boy Harry here is capable of it, a woman like me is certainly capable of it too. Now, from what I’ve read in the papers, you seem to have made quite the name for yourself working with the Wizengamot prosecutors—”

“He’s brilliant at his—”

Harry cut in but fell silent when Molly looked at him with a look so dark, he wanted to turn and run.

Where had she learnt the uncanny ability to make him feel like he was eleven years old and standing in front of _both_ Severus Snape and Minerva McGonagall?

Albus Dumbledore had never scared him that much.

“Do not interrupt me, Harry, I wasn’t talking to you.”

Molly reprimanded him sharply and Harry hung his head in shame.

“Now as I was saying, you seem to have made quite the name for yourself, Mr Malfoy—”

“Draco will—”

“What in the name of Godric Gryffindor is it with young folks these days always interrupting and speaking out of turn! Little Teddy Lupin has more manners than the two of you put together!” Molly said quite firmly.

“And where is it that you think you are going, Ronald Weasley?” she asked when Ron attempted to quietly sneak past Harry to get out of the kitchen.

“Err, nowhere, mum, just moving over here, that's all.”

Ron blushed so fiercely that the colour of his cheeks temporarily rivalled that of his hair and with an inaudible sigh he resigned himself to his fate now that his attempt to slip out of the kitchen, unnoticed, had been foiled.

Harry bit the inside of his mouth to keep a smirk from creeping into his face.

“Auntie Molly!”

Teddy squealed, choosing exactly that moment to storm into the kitchen and throw his arms around her waist. She unfolded her hands and hugged him instead.

“What is it, sweetheart?” Molly asked, her voice several degrees warmer and a lot softer than just second ago.

“Are we going to have dinner soon? Because I’m absolutely famished and if we’re not going to eat soon, could I have some chocolate cake please?”

“Dinner will be on in a few minutes, pet, can you wait a little bit longer? I’ll just finish talking to your uncle Harry here and then I’ll serve dinner.”

“How long are a few minutes?”

Molly smiled.

“Not long, I promise. But you may have a chocolate biscuit now if you promise to finish all your vegetables.”

“I promise, auntie Molly,” Teddy said with a solemn expression and as if to prove his point, he turned his hair a bright shade of red.

Molly drew her wand and summoned a biscuit tin from one of the top shelves. She opened it and took out a chocolate biscuit which she handed it to Teddy.

He accepted it with a bright smile.

“Thank you, Auntie Molly.”

“You’re very welcome, my darling.”

“Can we give one to Harry’s friend Draco too? Harry says he likes chocolate and I promised to get him some cake, but I guess a biscuit would be fine too, I think, I’m not sure,” Teddy said.

Harry had to press his lips together to suppress a chuckle from escaping his throat.

He silently watched as Teddy turned to Draco and asked him with a completely earnest expression whether he would accept a chocolate biscuit as a substitute for chocolate cake.

“I most certainly would, young man,” Draco smiled.

For the third time that night Harry felt his chest swell and flooded with warm feelings of love and adoration for Draco, who had positively lit up when Teddy had addressed him directly.

“Well, good then,” Teddy nodded.

He turned back to Molly and eyed the biscuit tin.

“If it’s not okay, because of dinner, I’ll share mine with Draco?” he said.

He sounded a little unsure but Molly simply smiled and flicking the biscuit tin open, she offered it to Draco, who cautiously took one biscuit.

“Thank you, Mrs Weasley,” he said with a polite smile.

“ _Tsk_ , that’ll be Molly for you, my boy. And take two cookies. You do look a bit thin around the waist. You young folks these days, all work and no time for a good meal.”

She shook her head and holding the biscuit tin open, she waited for Draco to take another biscuit.

After he had done so, Molly offered the tin to Harry and knowing better than to decline her homemade baked goods, he accepted a biscuit and thanked her. As he bit into the biscuit, she snapped the tin shut and levitated it back to the top of the shelf.

“Hey! What about me!”

Ron protested instantly, looking cross, however, his expression quickly changed when Molly fixed her eyes on him.

“You, Ronald Weasley, should really exercise more now that you’re not with the Aurors anymore. If you’re not careful, that beautiful wife of yours is going to replace you with a younger model very soon,” Molly said.

This time, Harry couldn’t help but snort. A tiny piece of biscuit promptly found its way into his windpipe and he coughed to clear his throat. Draco patted him on the back and he nodded in silent thanks, then jumped when Molly suddenly addressed him.

“Harry, I expect you to bring this boyfriend of yours by for Sunday Roast. He’s just like you. All skin and bones and this simply will not do, do you hear me?”

“Yes, Molly.”

Harry nodded because it seemed polite and he didn’t know what else to say.

How had Molly gone from being in the middle of telling both him and Draco off to offering them both biscuits and inviting Draco over for Sunday Roast?

_Surreal_ , the thought, then looked at Teddy and decided that he absolutely would take Teddy to Diagon Alley on Saturday and buy him absolutely everything he wanted.

“Well, good, now off with you. All of you, shoo, out of my kitchen so I can serve the food and we can all sit down for dinner,” Molly said.

He, Draco, and Ron turned on their heels and promptly ran from the kitchen. Teddy, on the other hand, remained and Harry thought that he could hear him happily natter away to Molly as she expertly levitated one big serving plate after the other out of the kitchen and onto the large dining room table.

Dinner passed without any major interference.

Arthur returned from upstairs, where he had been putting little baby Rose to bed and took his seat at the head of the table, while Molly sat down across from him on the other end. Ron sat at his father’s side with Hermione to his right and Andromeda beside her. Harry sat across from Hermione with Teddy to his right and Draco to his left.

They chatted about current affairs and Molly being Molly poked and prodded Draco about his job while she cut Teddy’s roast beef into smaller chunks. She ignored Teddy’s heavy protests and Draco politely answered each question but looked ready to sink to his knees and announce to the world that Hermione Granger was his Queen when she rescued him from Molly’s incessant stream of questions by engaging him in a discussion about some archaic wizarding law, she thought needed to be reworded and updated.

Harry listened to them both for a while, then his attention drifted to Ron who was discussing Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes’ latest products with his dad while Andromeda occupied Molly with an unabating stream of questions about her dinner.

Halfway through dinner, Teddy insisted on sitting on Harry’s lap and despite Andromeda’s heavy frown, he let his godson get away with it and as they pulled both their plates together and continued eating, he casually let his free hand slide under the table and placed it on Draco’s knee.

He squeezed lightly and turning his head, Draco smiled, then turned his attention back to his conversation with Hermione.

Feeling inexplicably pleased with himself, Harry put his cutlery down and wrapping both his arms around Teddy, he hugged his godson to his chest and was pleased when the boy did not protest.

_Home_ , Harry couldn’t help but think as he leant back in his chair and let his eyes wander around the table. He hadn’t expected dinner to go quite this smoothly but apparently post-war things were just that simple. Feeling warm and fuzzy and perfectly at ease, Harry ruffled Teddy’s hair and quietly continued eating.

After dessert, Molly, Arthur, and Andromeda moved into the living room to enjoy a few drinks, while Harry, Draco, Hermione, Ron, and Teddy remained seated at the dining table.

Well, Teddy did not.

He decided that two things were of paramount importance; one was getting Draco that piece of chocolate cake, he’d promised him, and the second was dragging over a chessboard and the heavy box of wizarding chess figurines. He proudly placed both items on the table and looked back and forth between Harry and Ron and Harry decided that whatever his godson was about to say, no good would come out of it.

“Uncle Ron, you owe Harry a rematch, you made him lose the last time.”

“I didn’t make him lose, Teddy, he didn’t play very well, that’s all.”

“It was Harry’s birthday!”

Teddy remained steadfast in his opinion and placing his hands on his hip, he defiantly turned his hair bright purple to underline his point.

“You play?” Draco asked quietly

He leant closer to Harry and casually placed his hand on top of his thigh.

Harry smiled and placed his own hand on top of Draco’s.

“Not very well but Teddy loves it when Ron and I play a match and he gets to play commentator. Care you help me save my own arse?”

Draco grinned and his eyes twinkled with a certain kind of slyness Harry found mildly concerning.

“I’ll do you one better, Potter, but you owe me a favour if I win this game for you.”

Harry smiled.

“Anything you want.”

Draco quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Anything I want?” he asked.

A devious grin spread across his face.

Harry sighed, looking rather concerned.

“Within reason,” he attempted to amend but Draco shook his head.

“No, Potter, anything I want, no limits, and I promise I’ll save your arse, face and honour in front of Weasley there.”

Harry frowned.

“You drive a hard—”

“What are you two whispering about!”

Ron quipped up and Draco turned his head, then looked at him with a devilish smirk.

“Your imminent demise on the chessboard, Weasel.”

Ron burst into laughter.

“Malfoy, in the last fifteen years Harry’s never won a single game against me, I’m not worried,” he grinned.

He wrapped an arm around Hermione and kissed her temple affectionately when she rolled her eyes at him.

“I accept your terms, Draco Malfoy,” Harry whispered.

He casually pushed Draco’s hand off his thigh and when he pushed in-between his and Draco’s chair, he allowed Teddy to scramble back onto his lap.

“Well, Weasley, tonight’s your lucky night because Potter here won’t be playing you, I will. Let’s see how good you are against the former Slytherin champion for six years running,” Draco replied with complete nonchalance.

With that, he adjusted the position of the chessboard and casually began to arrange the figures on the board.

If Ron felt at all intimidated or was uncomfortable, he hid it well and less than ten minutes into the game, Arthur, Molly, and Andromeda joined them at the table to observe the mental duel between one Ron Weasley and one Draco Malfoy.

They appeared to be evenly matched but somehow Harry couldn’t help but think that Draco wasn’t showing his full potential, at least not yet. The game was slow but thoroughly captivating and the tension in the room was thick.

Even Teddy, you usually preferred a wild and brutal game of wizarding chess, sat with elbows propped up on the table and his chin resting on his clutched hands. He had his eyes glued to the chessboard and he was quieter than a mouse.

When Ron took one of Draco’s rooks with a triumphant grin, Teddy turned his hair bright red to show his solidarity. Ron’s small victory was, however, short-lived and he soon found himself defending his queen from Draco’s bishop and his knight, who attacked her from both sides.

It was around then, that Arthur squeezed Ron’s shoulder in silent support and Hermione looked at Draco with pure admiration.

Harry tried to work out Draco’s game plan but when he realised that Draco had most likely planned at least ten moves ahead, he gave up and looked at Andromeda instead.

The look on her face made Harry think that she had long since worked out Draco’s stratagem and he turned his attention back to the game to take another look. The blasé expression on Draco’s face and the way he calmly and coolly reclined in his chair with his fingertips casually resting on top of the table momentarily distracted him and for a few minutes, Harry found it decidedly difficult to focus. He let his hand edge closer to Draco’s and quite unperturbed by the fact that Teddy was still in his lap, he wound his little finger around Draco’s.

Draco briefly turned his head, smiled at him, then coldly instructed his queen to take one of Ron’s bishops and from then on, the game rapidly went downhill…for Ron, who bitterly fought for his king’s survival.

Half an hour after that, Draco took his queen and straightening up a little, he curled his little finger a little tighter around Harry’s little finger and then smugly said, “Checkmate, Weasley!”

Ron growled and threw Draco a murderous look and when he rose to his feet, Harry fully expected an avalanche of swearwords to fall from Ron’s lips.

What he wasn’t prepared to witness was Ron extending his hand and congratulating Draco on a game well played.

“Excellent game, Draco,” he said with a smile.

Quietly moving his chair back, Draco stood and accepted Ron’s extended hand.

“The feeling is mutual, Ron,” Draco smiled.

Harry looked back and forth between his best friend and his boyfriend, then, quirked a questioning eyebrow at Hermione, who shrugged and smiled.

Molly surprised everyone by chuckling softly, filling the temporary silence in the room with the pleasant warmth of her laughter.

“Well, Draco, my adopted son loves you and my youngest son isn’t drawing his wand and challenging you to a duel over you defeating him at a game of chess. I say you are a decent person after all.”

Draco sat down again and smiled.

“Thanks, Mrs Weasley,” he said, then turned his attention over to Ron.

“Up for a rematch sometime, Weasley?”

“Definitely,” Ron nodded.

Harry was about to ask whether Ron and Draco were planning to become best mates after all when Teddy wriggled in his arms, turned to face him, and poked him in the chest with his left index finger.

“I’m never playing chess with you again, Harry!” he said, looking thunderous, or as thunderous as a child could look.

Harry smiled.

“And why is that, my dear Teddy?”

“You are a terrible player,” Teddy huffed.

He crossed his arms over his chest and looked rather miffed over having to explain the obvious.

“I’m not really good at the game, aren’t I?”

Harry sighed and ruffled Teddy’s still-purple hair, which paled into a light blue underneath his touch.

Draco chuckled.

“You are abysmal, Potter.”

Harry glared at him when Teddy nodded vigorously.

“How would you know, Malfoy? You and I never played against each other.”

“No, and we don’t need to in order for me to know that you’re rubbish at the game.”

“Oh? And you’ve come to this conclusion how?”

Harry raised an eyebrow and tried to bite back a smirk. He ignored the twitch in his hand, the one that made him think taking Draco home to spank him for his impudence was rapidly becoming a very good idea.

“That’s easy, Weasley said you never won a game against him in fifteen years. I just defeated Weasley, who is a decent player, ergo, you cannot be any good at this game. Seriously, Harry Potter, are you sure that you’re an Auror? Your deductive skills appear to be in even worse shape than your chess-playing skills.”

“Oi, Malfoy!”

Ron objected with a frown.

“Don’t be mean to Harry, Draco!” Teddy said, poking Draco’s arm repeatedly.

“I’m not, little man,” Draco smiled, “I’m just teasing him. You should too, he deserves it.”

“You are walking on very thin ice, Draco Malfoy.”

Harry grumbled under his breath though there was no actual malevolence in his voice and somehow, he couldn’t keep his eyes from twinkling with amusement.

“Levitation Charm, Potter, works always.”

Draco grinned and winked at him, then turned his attention to Teddy.

“What do you say, Teddy, want to join my team and cheer me on next time?”

“Absolutely!”

Teddy nodded vigorously and when he turned his hair platinum-blond and everyone around the table laughed while Harry groaned.

“Molly loves you; Ron wants to be friends with you and you’re turning my own godson against me. Please tell me why I ever thought of falling in love with a Slytherin was a good idea?”

“It’s the Draco-Malfoy-charm, nobody can resist it.”

Draco smiled and everyone laughed a little more

“Seriously though, Potter, it just means you have extraordinarily good taste in men, that’s all.”

“I think Charlie was right when he said those two will end up getting married.”

Ron laughed and throwing his arm around Hermione, he pulled her close and planted a big, fat, sloppy kiss on her cheek. She squealed and Teddy made a noise of disgust while Molly smacked Ron’s shoulder affectionately.

“Ma, for Merlin’s sake, she’s my wife.”

“There’s a child in the room,” Molly chided him affectionately, though her eyes twinkled with mirth.

“It’s not like Teddy has never seen me kiss my wife.”

“Yuk!”

Teddy objected but when Arthur suggested that it was past his bedtime, he vehemently refused to vacate Harry’s lap and not even Nana Tonks could persuade him otherwise.

Hermione drew her wand to revive the fallen and broken chess pieces and then gently transferred them back into their storage box while Arthur poured everyone a drink. They all chatted amicably for another half hour or so, then Ron and Hermione announced that they were heading off. They attempted to head upstairs to retrieve baby Rose, who was peacefully asleep in a cot in Ron’s old room but Arthur shooed them both out of the house and told them to enjoy a good night’s sleep.

Harry gave Ron a sly grin which resulted in him stumbling over his own feet when he attempted to get up and Ron cast a sneaky Tripping Jinx at his feet.

He glared at his best friend but accepted Draco’s hand and scrambled back to his feet.

After Ron and Hermione left, Molly and Andromeda excused themselves into the kitchen to tackle the stack of dirty dishes with their wands.

Meanwhile, Harry crouched down in front of Teddy and pulled him into a fierce hug.

Teddy yelped and struggled but when Harry started tickling him, he surrendered and slithered right through Harry’s arms and onto his knees. He sat back on his hunches on the floor and stopping to allow Teddy to catch his breath, Harry ruffled his godson’s hair.

“Can I tell you a secret, Teddy?” he asked quietly and stilling, Teddy gave him a curious look, then grinned.

“Sure!”

Harry smiled.

“Alright, but before I tell you, I have a question. Tell me, Teddy Lupin, what do you think about Draco?”

Teddy smiled.

“He’s cool, I like his hair and he can play Wizarding Chess. Why do you ask?”

“I’m glad you think that way, because, well—”

Harry hesitated for a moment and looking around the place, he spotted Draco across the room, retrieving both their jackets.

“Well, what?”

Teddy frowned and scrunched up his nose. He wasn’t very good at being patient. Well, he was, but only when he wanted to and now clearly wasn’t one of those moments.

“Hmm, well, you see, Draco isn’t exactly my friend you know. He’s a little bit more than just a friend,” Harry said and wondered whether he was doing the right thing.

Teddy was a smart boy but he was still so young and he didn’t know if telling Teddy that Draco was his boyfriend would result in his godson thinking Harry didn’t want him anymore or was trying to replace him.

“I know, he’s your boyfriend,” Teddy said.

He flashed Harry a big grin and Harry frowned.

“Who told you that?” he asked.

“Auntie Molly. I saw you and Draco holding hands in the kitchen because I've never seen you hold hands with anyone before, so I asked and she told me. I don’t mind, if that's what you want to ask. You smile every time you look at him. I like seeing you happy, Harry,” Teddy said.

Harry’s heart skipped a beat in his chest and had to take a moment to swallow past the big lump that had formed in his throat. His eyes prickled with unshed tears and pulling Teddy into a firm hug, he blinked furiously to hold them at bay.

“You’re the best godson ever,” he whispered and hugged Teddy a little tighter.

“I love you so much, little man.”

“I love you too, Harry. You’re the best godfather ever,” Teddy whispered back and as he wriggled out of the hug, Harry vaguely noted that Draco had walked up to them both.

Teddy twisted his head around, looked up at Draco, smiled, and then looked back at Harry.

“Harry?” he asked.

“Yes?”

“If Draco is your boyfriend, does that mean he’s my cousin and also my other godfather?”

Harry chuckled.

“I don’t know, shall we ask Draco that?”

Teddy nodded and getting back to his feet, Harry lifted Teddy up and into his arms.

“Hey Draco,” he smiled, “Teddy and I were wondering—”

“If I want to be Teddy’s other godfather, I know, I heard,” Draco laughed.

“Do you?”

Teddy asked and Harry couldn’t help but note the hopeful look in Teddy’s eyes.

He just hoped that Draco had seen it too.

“Keep that blond hair and we’re all good, Teddy. Black really doesn’t suit you,” Draco grinned.

Harry rolled his eyes at Draco in response but said nothing about the veiled dig about his hair. As he looked back and forth between his godson and Draco, he couldn’t help but notice the striking resemblance Teddy, whose hair was still platinum-blond, bore to Draco.

Teddy’s eyes were a natural clear-blue — _he hadn’t yet mastered being able to change his eye colour at will_ — and they complimented Draco’s silvery-grey eyes perfectly.

They looked more like father and son than cousins or step-godfather and step-godson.

“No problem, Uncle D.”

Teddy flashed him a grin and Harry winced a little at Teddy’s choice of address for Draco, however, if it bothered Draco at all, he didn’t show it.

They high-fived each other and after Draco promised to teach Teddy all his chess tricks, he finally allowed them to put on their jackets and get themselves ready to leave.

Harry gave Teddy one last big hug and a sloppy kiss on the cheek, for which Teddy shot him a disgusted glare and promptly wiped his cheek with the back of his sleeve. Harry didn’t care. He promised Teddy to pick him up at Nana Tonks’ house on Saturday afternoon and take him to Diagon Alley to go shopping. He had to promise Teddy to bring Draco too.

Since Draco had no objections to that, Harry agreed to Teddy’s stipulation, forced another kiss on Teddy and left the Burrow with the biggest grin in the world and his hand firmly clasped around Draco’s.

As they headed back towards the village of Ottery St. Catchpole, he childishly skipped half of the way and when Draco indulged him and skipped alongside him, he fell in love with him all over again.

Shortly before they reached the Apparition Point, he stopped, pulled Draco into his arms, cupped his face, and kissed him soundly, fiercely, and quite possessively.

Draco reciprocated the kiss and with the darkness shielding them from view, they snogged for several minutes before Harry slowly withdrew, leaving Draco breathless.

“You, Draco Malfoy, are the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he whispered and in the dim light of a nearby street lantern, he fixed his eyes on Draco’s and found himself sucked into the clear sparkling grey orbs that darkened under his gaze.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Potter,” Draco smiled softly and Harry pulled him flush against his body and held him tight.

“No regrets about coming to the Burrow and meeting Molly?” he asked.

Draco shook his head.

“No regrets. No regrets about you either, none whatsoever, about anything. It's all perfect, it's exactly what I want.”

Harry didn’t need Draco to be any more specific, he knew exactly what he was talking about and suddenly found himself feeling extremely possessive of Draco, though that's how he felt most of the time when he was around Draco or thought about him.

He felt possessive and protective.

He felt head over heels in love.

He felt in awe.

And he felt full of pride.

“Mine,” he whispered.

He crashed his lips onto Draco’s and captured them in a fiercely dominant kiss and by the time they parted they were both breathless. Draco looked at him with darkened lust-laden eyes and a wicked sort of smile.

"Yours," he whispered in response to Harry staking claim on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, who was the real saviour at tonight's dinner?
> 
> 1- **Harry Potter,** because he's the saviour!  
> 2- **Draco Malfoy,** because he ventured into the lions' den!  
> 3- **Ron Weasley,** because he didn't lose his shit after losing a game of chess against Draco Malfoy!  
> 4- **Hermione Granger,** because she's wonderful!  
> 5- **Arthur Weasley,** because he's the best granddad!  
> 6- **Molly Weasley,** because nobody is more badass than Molly Weasley?  
> 7- **Andromeda Tonks,** because she's Slytherin through and through.  
> 8- **Teddy Lupin,** because he was the life of the party...and well duh, chocolate cake.


	40. What Makes A Man (Want To Give You All His Heart)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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>  [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47928512021/in/dateposted-public/)   
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> After feeling miserable for most of the day, I finally found the energy to pull myself together and give this chapter a final edit before posting it for your reading pleasure — the last few days at work have been rather mental.
> 
> I will never understand how Sports Day ( _When exactly did putting bed covers on a duvet become an athletic activity and is there a Drarry story in this?_ ) and organising a Flea Market in celebration of Children's Day ( _June 1st in China, although I think it's an International Celebration..._ ) is more tiring than actual teaching.
> 
> I'm leaving chapter-specific notes about the today’s post at the end, but before I let you enjoy the update, here's my sweet little **Master Shane** asleep on my Slytherin notebook that contains all the info on this story, including detailed information about as of yet unpublished chapters — if you're thinking of grabbing it to have a sneaky looksie, my little boy may look like I sweet little kitten but I can assure you that he's a ferocious boy and he's very protective of that book, not even I am allowed to look at it anymore.
> 
>  
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> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/47972059678/in/dateposted-public/)  
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* * *

Harry watched with appreciation, and a somewhat lecherous expression, as Draco stretched himself, easing his stiff muscles — dressed, half-naked or naked, Draco was hot, extremely hot. His sexiness was natural, effortless. It wasn’t something he consciously put on to impress, it was just the way he was and it did funny things to Harry’s mind and other parts of his body.

Draco let out a tired-sounding soft sigh, gave him a sort of disbelieving look —one that made Harry smile — and shook his head.

“When you and Teddy are together, it’s like taking out two kids,” he said.

“Aw, Uncle D, thanks for buying us ice-cream.”

Harry smiled and Draco rolled his eyes.

“That name is reserved for Teddy, not for you, Potter, so don’t even think about it.”

As promised, they spent the entire afternoon entertaining Teddy and Harry had to concede that Draco was telling the truth. Teddy’s seemingly inexhaustible energy had, at some point, rubbed off on Harry and he had, without a care in the world, horsed around with Teddy, who’d enjoyed the attention completely.

Draco had chosen to remain a little more reserved, though he’d enjoyed himself just as much. Harry, who lived for spending quality time with Teddy, had really let go and given in to the temptation to act like a child as he’d laughed and fooled around with Teddy.

It had been a fun afternoon but Harry was grateful that Teddy was back with Andromeda — not because he had enough of his godson but because Teddy slept best in his own bed, surrounded by all his toys and in the comfort of a home he was most familiar with.

Apart from that, Harry was also looking forward to a little bit of alone-time with Draco in the comfort of his flat. After handing Teddy back to Andromeda, they’d enjoyed a lovely dinner and Draco’s bedroom was warm and cosy.

Harry did not want to leave, not now, not ever. He wanted to curl in bed, wrap himself around Draco and hold him all night — he doubted that Draco would have much of an objection to that.

When he put his mind to it, Draco could be a proper sloth and Harry loved that side of Draco — he knew how to relax and made a point of taking time for himself to recharge his energy levels and did it without letting the outside world in to take every piece of him.

Harry reached out and taking Draco’s hand he pulled him closer to the bed. Draco stepped forward willingly.

“Are the three of us going to be in the papers tomorrow?” he asked.

He dithered for half a second, then climbed onto his bed and moved to straddle Harry’s bare thighs.

Harry let him.

Draco had stripped down to pair of black boxer briefs and unbuttoned his grey shirt and while Harry generally preferred Draco completely naked, this was just as good.

He thoroughly enjoyed the copious amount of pale skin that was currently on display and it did wonderful things to his sexual appetite but for the moment he pushed any salacious thoughts about having his wicked way with Draco aside and focused on his question instead.

“No,” he said, shaking his head.

He let his hands rest on top of Draco’s taut thighs and relished in the warmth radiating from his body.

“The papers— They aren’t allowed to print photographs of Teddy; I’ve been very firm with them on that from the very beginning. It was something Andromeda wanted and I was quite happy to sign the power of my name under that. He’s growing up with Andromeda as a mother figure and me as a father figure and he’ll never know his parents. That’s enough of a blow. I don’t want him reading a bunch of rumours and lies in the Prophet once he’s old enough to understand.”

Draco smiled.

“Wise legal move,” he said.

Harry let out a small sigh.

“They’ll most definitely print photos of the two of us, though, and they’ll be a mention of Teddy, no doubt,” he said.

He fully expected to see an article and photographs of him and Draco on the front page of tomorrow’s Prophet, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret having spent the afternoon with Teddy and Draco on Diagon Alley of all places — Teddy loved the place and the day had been about him having as much fun as possible.

“Ah well, it’ll most likely just be a boring post about the two of us being out and about and buying your godson some ice-cream; it’ll be a real snooze fest of an article really,” Draco said with a casual shrug.

“After you ripped Skeeter a new one, they won’t dare pull the same stunt again. By the way, she’s miserable working with the legal time. One of our prosecutors has been giving her a massively hard time.”

Draco paused and a rather sly grin crept onto his face.

“I may or may not have encouraged him to make her life miserable.”

Harry chuckled softly but remained otherwise silent. He decided to change the subject to a more physical way of expressing his desire for Draco and slid his hands further up his thighs, then twisted his fingers into the smooth fabric of Draco’s open shirt. Harry pulled him down for a searing kiss, claimed his mouth with his lips and pushing his tongue into Draco’s mouth, he teased his willing tongue, enticing it to a fierce duel.

Draco let out a low moan and swallowing it, Harry deepened the kiss a little more. He let go of Draco’s shirt and sought out his wrists instead. Closing his fingers tightly around them, he pulled Draco’s arms behind his back and quite effectively and very possessively restrained Draco for the duration of the kiss, which latest a good few minutes.

Draco didn’t struggle but he did yelp when Harry rather suddenly tugged on his wrists, pushing them further up to the centre of his back. The move resulted in Draco’s wrists resting against the centre of his back, while his fingertips brushed against his shoulder blades. It was a somewhat awkward and slightly painful position with forced Draco to arch his back and therefore break the kiss.

As he did so, Harry easily flipped him onto his back and pinned him to the mattress.

“ _Ngh_ , you’re an absolute deviant.”

Draco breathed deeply, still trying to recover from the surprise move.

Harry chuckled, the sound a low rumble deep in his throat. It made his eyes dance with mirth.

“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” he said.

He pulled back slightly and gave Draco the chance to prop himself up against several pillows while he sat back on his haunches.

“Please do,” Draco said.

His arms were still resting behind his back and he made no attempt to place them anywhere else.

Harry silently commended him for his obedience, then praised him for his excellent manners.

“My little prince is so very polite, I like that,” he said.

Harry shuffled, moved to sit between Draco’s legs, and pushing his legs further apart, he ran his fingertips up the inside of Draco’s left thigh and casually toyed with the hem of Draco’s boxers.

“I’m always polite, Potter.”

“Try, _I’m always polite, Sir_ , and I may believe you.”

Draco held his gaze for a moment, then spoke after him; his voice full of warmth, love, and surrender.

“I’m always polite, _Sir_.”

There wasn’t a rough edge or a snide feel to Draco’s words whatsoever and it did funny things to Harry. His obedience surprised him but Harry purposefully kept his expression neutral, deciding not giving anything away, at least not for the time being.

Instead, he let his fingers slip beneath the pair of boxer briefs, Draco wore and caressed the soft warm sensitive skin. He leant forward and catching the waistband with his teeth he tugged it down just far enough to expose Draco’s curse scar but not far enough to expose his cock. Harry peppered it with tiny kisses and licks and delighted in the low moans that repeatedly fell from Draco’s lips.

Not in any hurry to move things along, he covered Draco’s muscular stomach with butterfly kisses, tiny licks, and the occasional bite. It drew the most delectable sounds from Draco’s mouth and Harry lost himself in his exploration.

Draco’s breathless gasps, low moans, and short groans washed over him, gathering around him like a thick, impenetrable fog of pleasure.

Making Draco feel good was extremely high on Harry’s list of kinks.

Making Draco feel good while Draco willingly surrendered his body was even higher on Harry’s list of kinks.

Making Draco feel good made Harry feel good; he loved giving Draco pleasure.

He delighted in the way that Draco shuddered underneath his feather-light touches and the way that his abdominal muscles flexed below his skin.

Harry circled Draco’s navel with his tongue, then plunged it inside and French-kissed the sensitive spot with ferocious enthusiasm. His hand remained underneath Draco’s boxer briefs but instead of moving it closer to Draco’s crotch, he cupped Draco’s left buttock and squeezed it, purposefully digging his fingers into the pale warm flesh.

His fingers easily slipped between Draco’s buttocks and as his fingertips repeatedly ghosted over the sensitive ring of muscle around Draco’s tight hole, a series of enchanting little whimpers fell from Draco’s lips.

Harry knew that it was Draco’s wordless way with begging for more and he moved to kiss along the length of Draco’s cock but made no attempt to take off his boxer briefs.

Instead, he continued to tease, trailing kisses all the way up to Draco’s nipples. He flicked his tongue over one of the pert little nubs, then sucked it into his mouth and bit it gently.

Draco mewled and his entire body shuddered.

Harry could feel him move his feet a little and looking up he drank in the sight that presented itself to him.

Draco’s hair was in a complete state of disarray and his flushed face was a gorgeous shade of dark-pink. He had his eyes closed and had parted his lush red kiss-swollen lips.

Harry’s desire to dominate Draco took over almost entirely and it made his head spin quite a bit.

He wanted to claim Draco.

He wanted to own him.

He wanted to possess Draco and he wanted it badly.

He wanted permission to call him his.

The impulse was strong, almost overpoweringly so, and for a moment Harry let himself succumb to the idea. His brain flooded with a mixture of all sorts of good chemicals that made him dizzy for a moment and it took Harry every ounce of self-restraint to pull himself back from the edge, to stop himself from descending completely into his Domspace, which Draco always, and seemingly without even trying, managed to ignite.

“Look at me, my love,” Harry whispered.

He was thoroughly in awe of the effect he had on Draco, who slowly opened his eyes and blinked once. It was a perfect slow blink that made Harry’s heart flutter and soar. Draco’s usually silvery-grey eyes were now dark with desire and it was a beautiful transformation to have witnessed. He licked his lips and drew in a shaky breath.

“Beautiful,” Harry whispered.

“You are so beautiful, my little prince.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Draco’s voice trembled and he was breathless despite a complete lack of physical exertion.

Harry couldn’t help but smile.

“Doesn’t take much to turn you into a mess, my little prince, does it?” he whispered teasingly.

Draco opened his mouth to answer the question but Harry stopped touching him altogether and shook his head.

“Shush. Not a word, my little prince, okay?”

Draco nodded.

With a smile, Harry ran his fingertips from Draco’s ankles up and along his calves. He tickled the back of Draco’s knees and smirked when Draco pressed his lips together to stop himself from giggling, then dug his fingernails into the inside of his thighs and scraped them over the sensitive skin.

Harry cupped Draco’s hard cock through his boxers and rubbed his palm over the pulsing flesh, then trailed his fingertips over his stomach and chest. He pushed Draco’s shirt completely off his shoulders and dragging it all the way down his arms to his wrists, he expertly twisted the makeshift bonds into a knot, ensuring that Draco longer had a choice about keeping his hands behind his back — he was now forced to do so until Harry either took the restraints off again or Draco used his safeword.

Letting his hands slide up Draco’s arms, Harry teased his neck and ran his thumb over Draco’s lips.

“What do you want, my little prince?” he asked.

His voice was warm, soft, loving and full of the promise to provide Draco with unadulterated pleasure for as long as Draco continued to play by his rules.

“I want to please you, Sir,” Draco whispered.

Harry smiled.

That answer was simply perfect.

“How do you want to please me, my love?”

“I—”

Draco started but trailed off, then suddenly blushed crimson.

“You’re so pretty when you blush,” Harry said.

He ran his fingertips up and down the inside of both of Draco’s thighs and alternated between a gentle, ghosting brush and scraping his nails over the sensitive skin. The rough edge left marks and the red stripes looked stunningly beautiful against the pale of Draco’s skin. Harry wanted to kiss up and down every single scratch he’d left on Draco. His skin felt warm to the touch and Harry knew that the tingling sensations sent tiny tremors of pleasure straight to Draco’s cock.

After a while, he stopped and encouraged Draco instead.

“Go on, tell me, my little prince, tell me what you want.”

“I—”

Draco tried again but the words caught in his throat and Harry leant forward to capture his lips in a slow, tender, and playful kiss.

He let the tip of his tongue brush against Draco’s lips and swallowed every single one of his little gasps and moans, then slithered his warm, wet tongue past the full, red lips and let it dance around the tip of Draco’s tongue, its underside, its sides, and the top.

Harry made sure to never linger quite long enough to allow Draco’s tongue to engage with his and when it chased him, he slowly broke away and trailed a series of tiny kisses along Draco’s jawbone. He pressed his lips to Draco’s jugular, hummed softly, then nipped gently at the skin.

Draco moaned and Harry peppered his neck in kisses, nibbled at his earlobe and breathing heavily, he let his warm breath ghost over the shell of Draco’s ear.

“You look completely ravishing. I want to make you fall apart, my little prince, I want to make you mine. I want to tie you up and tease you until you can’t take it anymore. I want to make you feel so good the only word you’ll remember is my name. I want to kiss and touch you everywhere and all at once. I want to watch you writhe and beg and moan and squirm and come. I want to take you to experience a high so exhilarating that you’ll float for days and I want you to watch in a mirror above the bed while I do all that and more to you, my sweet little prince.”

Harry whispered the filthy promise right into Draco’s ear and he moaned and bucked his hips upward as a tremor surged through his body and he writhed on the bed.

“Now, my love, tell me, what do _you_ want?”

Draco keened and pulling back, Harry watched his face intently, patiently waiting for him to voice his thoughts.

After a moment or two, Draco’s eyelids slowly fluttered open and he stared up at Harry with wide smouldering eyes. He inhaled sharply, then spoke with complete determination.

“I want to be your submissive, Harry, make it _real,_ please. I want a contract.”

Draco whispered his plea and Harry froze. He stared down at Draco and fervently tried to process what he’d just heard but his brain short-circuited and required a reboot.

Thoroughly floored by the unexpected request, Harry stopped scraping his fingernails over the skin on Draco’s thighs and withdrawing them slowly, he dragged his fingers through his hair and felt it spring back around his face in untidy tufts.

He inhaled and exhaled slowly and trying his hardest to keep a frown off his face, he searched Draco’s eyes for a hint of—

Well, to be perfectly honest, he wasn’t exactly sure what he was looking for.

Out of all the things he would have expected Draco to ask for, especially in his current state of arousal, _that_ had not been one of them.

He had not expected _this_.

He wasn’t prepared for _this_.

He did not know how to deal with _this_.

 _This_ , Draco’s request, was decidedly too much for Harry to handle. His own state of arousal made it hard to think straight, very hard. Draco’s delectable reactions to him being a complete tease had Harry hovering right at the edge of descending into Domspace and his head was a foggy mess.

Draco had just asked him for a contract; a proper D/s relationship with actual rules, limits, and punishments.

It was everything Harry wanted and more.

 _This_ request, it felt like his wildest dreams were about to come true.

From the first time that Draco had so very naturally responded to his dominance, he had desired for them to be in a proper D/s relationship. Over the last few months, he’d fantasised about it more often than he cared to remember; he’d even wanked himself raw to the fantasy.

Despite all that, it had never occurred to Harry to push Draco into that or force him to make that decision.

He was far too afraid that Draco would agree to his proposition just to please him and while Harry was sure that he knew Draco’s tells, he was still terrified.

Terrified to miss the fact that Draco wasn’t ready and afraid of agreeing for his own selfish benefit.

What he and Draco did now, it was BDSM for beginners, but it was more than he’d ever hoped to get and Harry was perfectly fine with the way things were between them.

They were exploring things together, communicating, building trust, and a deep and meaningful relationship. The journey was as exhilarating as the first time he’d ever flown on a broomstick, if not more so. They were bonding every day, sometimes over completely banal things, other times because they’d discovered something new about each other. Learning how to read all of Draco’s tells; learning his cues and signs had absolutely become Harry’s favourite pastime.

In the space of several months, Draco had gone from not knowing anything about the intricate world of BDSM to discovering that he was inclined to be submissive when actively dominated. That had let to him being curious about the lifestyle and a strong desire to explore it fully.

Nevertheless, Draco most definitely wasn’t ready to take such a massive leap! That much Harry was sure of.

The fog in Harry’s mind cleared and it screamed in protest over Draco’s plea.

Harry had always consoled himself with the thought that when Draco was ready, when and if he wanted it, he would come to him and ask for more, yet now that he’d done exactly that, Harry couldn’t help but vehemently reject the very idea of giving Draco exactly what he desired.

His fantasy that Draco might one day want to formalise things, might want to sign a contract, and enjoy all the aspects of a D/s relationship on a more permanent basis, had somehow become Harry’s pipedream, yet what with their relationship now being public knowledge and the ensuing mess that had followed the exposé, signing a D/s contract with Draco had been the very last thing on Harry’s mind.

“Harry—”

Draco’s soft plea pulled him from his thoughts and as he watched Draco struggle with his shirt, trying to free his hands, Harry snapped back into the here and now.

He pulled Draco into a sitting position and reaching around him, he removed the shirt and tossed it over the edge of the bed, then gently held Draco’s hands in his own and massaged his wrists gently.

“Please, say something, I’m freaking out here.”

Draco’s soft plea was the last push Harry needed to properly pull himself together. He could tell that if he didn’t say something soon, if he didn’t fix the havoc his prolonged silence had wreaked inside Draco’s head, Draco was bound to have a panic attack and that was the last thing Harry wanted to deal with tonight.

He did not want Draco to associate submission with fear, not now, not ever.

He wanted Draco to think of his submission to him as a precious gift, as something extraordinarily special, something Harry treasured greatly, something he would never take for granted.

A little unsure about how to let Draco down gently without hurting his feelings, Harry settled for a nervous chuckle and complete honesty, which had worked in his favour before.

“I’m stunned for words.”

 _Come on, Potter, you’ve been in a D/s relationship before, a sub asking you for a contract is nothing new_ , a treacherous little voice whispered into his ear.

 _Yes, but this is Draco, the man you love more than anything, who is asking you_ , another, softer voice whispered and Harry shuddered.

He resolutely told all the voices in his head to shut the fuck up and crawl into some dark twisted corner of his mind.

They grumbled but obeyed.

“I— I kinda sprung this on you, didn’t I?” Draco asked rather sheepishly and Harry smiled.

He lifted both Draco’s hands to his mouth and placed a tender kiss on the back of each one.

“Yes, you did. What brought this on?”

“I— I just want to try…”

Draco shrugged and after hesitating for a moment he gathered a bit of sassy courage.

“Besides, you owe me a favour, Potter. Remember, I saved your arse at the Burrow last week. You’d have lost that game of chess and little Teddy Lupin would have been so disappointed.”

Harry inhaled deeply then forced himself to exhale slowly and without letting out a sigh.

“Let me get this straight, you want to try being in a D/s relationship because I owe you a favour?” he asked, slowly and carefully while he tried to wrap his head around what was happening.

How had they gone from a bit of naughty teasing to discussing a possible D/s relationship agreement?

The mere attempt to try and answer that question made Harry’s head throb painfully.

“Yes,” Draco nodded.

“Anything I want, no limits. That was our deal and you accepted my terms.”

“Draco—”

This time Harry did sigh.

“This is not how it works.”

“This is not how _what_ works? Anything I want. No limits. I repeat, those were my terms, you agreed to them. I studied law; do I need to explain to you exactly what you signed up for?” Draco asked.

He pulled his hands away, folded his arms over his chest and glared.

Harry wanted to laugh at his petulance but he suppressed the urge. Somehow, he had a distinct feeling it would end with a stinging hex to his posterior and that was not an experience he was looking forward to having.

“Anything you want, no limits,” he mumbled instead.

He raked his fingers through his messy hair again, though not to tidy it up, which was impossible anyway, but rather because he wanted to stall for time.

“ _Merlin_ , Draco— You know, I thought you might ask me to bottom for you or— Uff, I don’t know— Do your paperwork for a month or something equally as stupid as that. I never expected you to use this to ask me to start a D/s relationship with you.”

“We already have one, you’re the boss, I do as you say,” Draco said scathingly.

 _In the bedroom_ , Harry thought and once again suppressed the urge to laugh.

Draco looked so utterly mad and he was so completely smug about what he wanted that Harry didn’t even want to spank him for his bratty insolence.

He wanted to snog him senseless and then some!

“Funny, me shoving _my_ dick up _your_ arse for a change seems to be more acceptable to you than letting me experience what a proper D/s relationship feels like!”

“Draco—”

Harry couldn’t help but sound a little warning but paused to take a calming breath.

“I will not argue with you about this,” he continued in a more calming voice and moving off the bed, he stood up. He wanted nothing more than to cross his arms over his chest but resisted the temptation to give in to resolving to such confronting body language.

“I would love nothing more than to let you experience a full-on D/s relationship, but I’m afraid you’re not ready yet. I think you’re asking me this because you think it’ll make me happy,” Harry said.

If he was completely honest with himself, right this very moment Harry had no idea whether Draco had asked him for a contract because he wanted to please him or because it was something he really wanted. He suspected it was a mixture of both and feeling a bit lightheaded, Harry crossed the room and walked up to the window. He drew the curtains back and looked out onto the dark deserted street below, then let out a small sigh and braced himself on the windowsill. His warm breath fogged up the cold windowpane.

When Draco squeezed his shoulder several minutes later, Harry didn’t flinch but he also didn’t turn around — not because he was angry, which he wasn’t but because he was too busy trying not to listen to the voices in his head, especially the one that was trying to push him toward granting Draco’s request.

“Harry—”

Draco’s voice was soft and hesitant and perhaps even a little fearful.

Harry stopped wrangling with the conflicting voices in his head and tossing them into a deep abyss, he slammed a lock on it and tossed away the key. He slowly turned around and relaxed back against the windowsill, perching himself on it for comfort.

For the second time that night, he felt tempted to cross his arms over his chest to show Draco that he wasn’t going to continue talking about this but since he didn’t want to appear unapproachable, he placed his hands on the windowsill instead. The Muggle central heating behind his legs warmed him comfortably and looking straight at Draco, he smiled softly, reassuringly.

“I just want to try,” Draco whispered, looking just a little forlorn.

All his earlier smugness had left him and insecurity and anxiety had taken its place instead.

It was a desperate plea and Harry had to absolutely force himself to ignore it.

He reached for the dragon pendant around his neck and clasped his fingers around the smooth metal.

As usual, it was both hot and cold to the touch. Harry knew that Aasymah wouldn’t be able to help him with this but holding on to her felt comforting and that was exactly what he needed tonight.

“I know you do, my love, and you’ve no idea how absolutely proud of you I am for being so brave,” he said quietly.

He felt the pendant’s calming influence and as his mind settled a little more, he slithered his arms around Draco’s waist and pulled him close, relishing in the warmth of his almost naked body pressed up against his own.

“You are an incredible person, Draco, do you know that?”

Draco scoffed disbelievingly and Harry chuckled.

“Whether you believe me or not, it’s true. What you have given me already, what you have allowed me to do to you and with you and what you asked me for tonight, that takes guts and an incredible amount of trust.”

Harry paused for a moment and bringing one hand up to Draco’s face, he caressed his cheek, then combed his fingers through his soft silky blond hair and tugged several loose strands behind Draco’s ear.

“I am incredibly honoured by how much you trust me and so proud of you for taking this step tonight, but I don’t think you’re ready for that kind of commitment just yet, Draco. I want you to take more time, think about it again, learn a little more.”

“Just— Let’s try? I can do this; I know I can.”

Draco’s insistence was commendable and Harry smiled. He pushed off the windowsill and planted a gentle kiss on Draco’s lips.

“I know you can do this, my little prince,” he whispered.

“You will, _when_ you’re ready, trust me on this, please.”

“A weekend.”

Harry shook his head. It took him everything he had to resist Draco’s obstinate bargaining.

“Draco, you have no idea how much I would love to say yes to this. To continue saying no to you is taking me everything I have, but I will, for both our sakes, for your sanity and mine. It’s too much too soon. I know what I’m talking about, so please believe me.”

Draco opened his mouth but Harry placed a single finger across his lips to silence him.

“Shush, please. Tonight’s no is not permanent, I promise you. It’s just until you’re ready. When you are, my answer will be yes, a resounding and loud yes. In the meantime, we can play as much as you like and as often or as little as you like. We can explore to our heart’s content, the world is our oyster, so to speak. We’ll go to a couple more munches, you can chat to Caleb—”

Draco pulled a face and Harry stopped talking.

“Fine, talk to Charlie,” he amended with an amused grin.

“And maybe in a few weeks or in a few months, however long it’ll take you to feel confident, I could take you to an event at Pandora’s Box where you can watch other Doms and subs doing scenes.”

“It’s because I’ve never done this before right? Because I’m a— What do you call it? A BDSM virgin? That’s why you don’t want to sign a contract with me. I know nothing and that turns you off, right?”

Draco whispered and he looked so small and vulnerable that Harry’s heart twisted painfully and his chest momentarily refused to expand to allow his lungs to fill with air.

“Draco Malfoy, there’s literally not a single thing about you that turns me off—”

“I can think of one thing—”

Draco said scathingly and lifting his left arm, he exposed the remnants of his Dark Mark, an ugly scar in the shape of a skull and snake.

Up close it was still clearly visible, although over the years it had faded considerably.

Harry smiled.

He wordlessly took Draco’s arm and pulling it towards him, he lowered his head and traced the faded scar of the Mark with the tip of his tongue and making the skin with his own mark.

Draco’s breathing changed, his pulse quickened and by the time Harry finished retracing the Mark with his tongue and after that with tiny kisses and the one or other small bite and suck here and there and looked up, Draco was staring at him with parted lips and black eyes.

He was breathless, aroused, and thoroughly floored. Harry absolutely wanted to keep him that way.

Well, he wanted to push him a little further, arouse him more, and give him endless pleasure but right now that was beside the point.

“Let me say this again, Draco Malfoy, there is not a single thing about you that turns me off. You stimulate my mind, my senses, and my body. Everything about you is hot. I promise you, the day you are ready to sign a contract with me, I _will not_ turn you down but welcome you with open arms and a wildly thumping heart.”

Harry spoke softly but with conviction and before Draco could open his mouth to say anything, Harry walked him back and pushed him down onto the bed. He crawled after him, straddled his hips and placing his hands on either side of Draco’s body, he leant forward and captured his lips in a fervent kiss, determined to claim his body, to own his mind, to possess his thoughts.

When he pulled away, Draco was struggling to breathe properly, though he’d been having some problems with that for a while now. Harry smiled down at him and placed a feather-light kiss on his forehead.

Draco exhaled audibly and a shudder surged through him, one Harry clearly felt and delighted in.

“Put your hands above your head, hold on to the headboard and don’t let go, whatever you do, don’t let go. If you must, you will ask for my permission first, OK?” Harry instructed.

He watched as Draco swallowed hard, nodded, and slowly moved his hands above his head. His fingers closed around the wrought iron of the headboard and he held on tight.

“My sweet little prince, you’re such a good boy, I’m so very proud of you,” Harry praised. “Now, tell me what does this mean?”

“I surrender…?”

Draco phrased his answer as a question, a tentative question but a question all the same.

“Yes and no. It does mean that you surrender but it also means that you’re not allowed to touch me, or yourself, without my explicit permission,” Harry said.

He watched as Draco sucked in a sharp breath and blinked several times but remained otherwise silent.

“Beautiful, just beautiful. Look at the way you’re surrendering to me, following my orders, answering my questions. You love it, don’t you, my little prince?”

“Yes, Sir,” Draco replied.

His voice quivered as he spoke.

“ _Ngh_ , say those words again, I simply can’t get enough of hearing you say them. You’re such a turn on.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Harry smiled, then captured Draco’s lips in a fiercely passionate kiss.

He plunged his tongue deep into Draco’s mouth and their tongues danced effortlessly.

Harry set the rhythm, the speed, and the intensity and Draco complimented him on every stroke, every lick, and every swirl. He was deliciously submissive and Harry’s mind whirled and his lungs grew weary, so weary that he had to pull away and inhale a whole lot of air. Draco did the same.

“Now, my sweet little prince, spread your legs for me, my love, spread them as far as they will go. Bent your legs at the knees, pull them up, then spread them.”

Harry murmured the soft-spoken order against Draco’s lips. He felt them tremble against his own and breathing on them, he teased them with just the very tip of his tongue, then very gently nipped at them. Pulling away from the almost-kiss, Harry shuffled and moved into the space between Draco’s legs. He sat back a little and watched as Draco obeyed his command.

He bent his legs at the knees and pulling them a little closer to his chest, he spread them as far as they would go. It was impressive and hot and falling forward, Harry braced himself on his arms and rolled his hips, rubbing his own erection against Draco’s, causing delicious friction between both their bodies.

Draco moaned against his lips and pulling away just slightly, Harry looked at him. He slowly rolled his hips again and Draco stared up at him with eyes full of desire, want, lust, and need.

“Do you know why I asked you to spread your legs for me, my little prince?” Harry asked and smiled when Draco shook his head.

He shifted his weight to his right arm and moving his left, he placed it on the inside of Draco’s thigh and pressed down, forcing Draco to spread his legs just that little bit further, almost as if he was a yoga instructor trying to bend Draco into an impossible position.

“Do you feel that burn as I stretch you just a little beyond what you can comfortably take?” Harry asked.

Draco nodded and Harry scraped his fingernails over the inside of Draco’s thigh but did not ease up on the pressure.

A low moan fell from Draco’s lips and shifting his weight back onto both his hands, Harry kissed him, then explained.

“That’s because you’re mine, my love, and what’s between your legs belongs to me. I have access to it any time I want, to your cock, to your hole, it’s all mine and you won’t deny me the pleasure of that, will you? That burn, the one you’re feeling now, it will remind you of that all evening and probably all day tomorrow, because, tonight, my little prince, you’ll stay in exactly this position for as long as I want you to or until you absolutely cannot take it anymore, in which case, you have a safeword which you know how to use.”

Harry paused for a moment and smiled at Draco, then reassured him that he had no intention of taking things beyond what he knew Draco could take.

At hearing Harry’s promise, Draco visibly relaxed. His shoulders dropped and he didn’t grip the headboard quite so tightly and when Harry asked whether he was okay, he swallowed hard, then gave a slow nod.

“Hm, yes you’re my good boy. Now, remember, your hole belongs to me. Your cock, your balls, it all belongs to me. Nobody else but me. Not even yourself,” Harry whispered.

His words sent thrills of excitement through Draco. He could feel them, see them and as he captured Draco’s lips in another heated kiss, he could also taste them. He drew several long moans from Draco, then pulled away.

“You wanted a contract, I said no, but if you want to submit to me outside the bedroom, I won’t deny you. Therefore, I’m now going to make you an offer which you can either accept or turn down,” Harry said.

He paused and allowed time for the words to sink in. He also wanted to build up Draco’s anticipation just a little further.

Eventually, Draco nodded and with a smile, Harry made his proposal.

“Very well, here’s the deal. Starting tomorrow morning and for the duration of two whole weeks, or fourteen days, all your orgasms are mine. You no longer have permission to touch yourself, there will be no wank in the shower to get rid of your erection in the morning and there will be no wanking in the evening either. In fact, you won’t be touching your cock at all unless you’re taking a leak that is. If you want to come, you will have to ask me for permission but I can’t promise that I’ll allow you to have an orgasm. I may use you for my own pleasure and my own release, I may tease you; I may edge you until you’re beyond desperate but decide to deny you the pleasure of sweet release or I may give you exactly what you want. Keep in mind, if it gets unbearable, you can use your safeword at any time during those two weeks. Do you think you can do that?”

Draco didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he swallowed hard and blinked several times.

Harry waited patiently as Draco considered what Harry had just asked him to give up and for two whole weeks no less — his right to decide when he could have an orgasm and when he couldn’t. Harry rolled his hips and rubbed his erection against Draco’s hard cock to draw a low moan from him and after another few minutes of silence, Draco finally spoke up.

“I want to try.”

His voice was soft and barely a whisper which made Harry smile.

“Will you be disappointed if I use my safeword?” he asked with an expression that bordered on worried.

“My sweet little prince, I want you to remember that I will _never_ be disappointed if you use your safeword. Everyone has their limits, even I do, and I do not want to push you past them, I want you to enjoy the experience.”

“I’m sure you will enjoy it much more than I will,” Draco mumbled and a soft chuckle escaped his lips.

“My thighs are sore,” he complained and grimaced a little.

“I can assure you we’ll both enjoy it,” Harry grinned. “And you can relax them now.”

Draco sighed with relief.

“Oh, thank Merlin.”

“Are you sure you would like to thank Merlin or…?”

Harry trailed off and shuffling to sit back on his haunches, he raised an eyebrow at Draco and waited for the knut to drop.

Draco flushed and looking rather embarrassed, he cleared his throat.

“Thank you, Sir,” he corrected himself.

“There, that’s much better,” Harry smiled and with a wave of his hand, he disappeared Draco’s boxer briefs, leaving him completely naked. He licked his lips appreciatively and teased a single finger along the length of Draco’s cock, pulling a low hiss from his lips.

“Well, since you accepted my offer, tonight is your last chance to have a wank, so that’s exactly what I want you to do. I want you to pleasure yourself and I want to watch you bring yourself off. Will you do that for me?” Harry asked.

Draco gasped.

His hands momentarily tightened around the wrought iron of the headboard and he shuffled his legs, rubbing the soles of his feet over the bed covers.

Harry smiled.

Since Draco still had his thighs spread, though, in a more comfortable position than before, Harry caressed the sensitive skin on the inside and Draco moaned.

“Does watching you please me?”

Draco asked. A faint pink blush graced his cheeks and Harry smiled and nodded.

“Very much so, my little prince. It’s so hot.”

“Then I’ll do this for you,” Draco said.

He was about to move his hands away from the headboard but before he could let go of the wrought iron, Harry pinched the skin on his inner thigh and twisted it, purposefully making him yelp in pain.

“I believe I gave you very clear instructions about your hands.”

Harry chided and gave Draco a very stern look.

He flushed and looked very apologetic.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” he whispered. “May I move my hands please?”

“Yes.”

Harry nodded and summoning some lube from the top drawer of Draco’s nightstand, he handed it to him.

“Now, my little prince, show me what you do when you have a good time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so in a surprise move ( _not unlike one might see in a good game of chess_ ) Draco asked for a D/s contract, a question that came so completely out of the blue that it floored even our level-headed protagonist Mr Harry Potter.
> 
> Why did Draco decided to drop a bombshell like that on Harry? In the chapter, he mentions a few reasons. None of them adequate, though. There certainly are more , perhaps you would like to fire up the old grey cells and present your ideas? I’m intrigued...
> 
> Naturally, Harry, while tempted ( _who wouldn't be?_ ), turned him down. A wise move, don't you think? During the actual writing process, we, that is to say Harry and I, had a long conversation about that decision and we both agree that it would have been reckless ( _not to mention completely insane and an utterly gross violation of the SSC (safe, sane, and consensual) rule_ ) of him to say yes to Draco at this point in time.
> 
> A little bit of **orgasm denial/prolonged control** , however. Well, that's an entirely different story. A rather kinky one, that will be quite hot and steamy ( _in absolutely every sense of the word_ ).  
> Here's a little bit of extra reading:  
> ["Edging & Orgasm Control"](https://www.devianceanddesire.com/2015/09/edging-and-orgasm-control/)  
> You will notice that Harry has attempted some of these things with Draco before, however he's about to take things up several notches!


	41. Rare Dragon Eggs And Gigantic Teases

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't think it would be a productive weekend but apparently I managed to write 11.5K and edit this chapter — all in a day's work too.
> 
> Once again, my eternal gratitude goes to K, without whom this chapter literally wouldn't exist. I think I wrote about five versions ( _there was also a lot of bratty screaming involved, most of which ended with a stern talking to or two — I really would have preferred a spanking but apparently you don't get the things you like as a punishment, ~~my subby little world is unfair~~...and I have the feeling saying this is going to get me into trouble, even if I've crossed it out_) before K was satisfied and approved it.
> 
> I had ideas to include flashbacks of Harry's past and although they read well, they didn't fit the scene, nor did they fit the story and while it wasn't the first time K made me take stuff out and do rewrites, I felt utterly wronged — up until I'd managed to garner his approval and then I got the praise I'd sneakily been after all along. *giggle*
> 
> I remember the very first time a friend made me take an entire chapter out of a story. That was more than ten years ago and I cried for days. These days I'm mature enough to only grumble for a bit and then obediently do rewrites - since I have learnt that my alpha reader and best friend only has the very best of intentions. So, yeah, uhm, K? Another chapter I'd like to dedicate to you since it wouldn't have been born without your continuous input and you devoting hours of your time to talking this through with me and reading over it again and again.
> 
> I'll leave you with my personal mantra of the weekend: **When life gives you lemons, send them back and ask for coffee instead. Or make lemon cheesecake and buy coffee.**

* * *

The Portkey journey to the Dragon Reserve in Romania ended almost as abruptly as it had begun and swaying a little, Harry took a step to the side to steady himself.

More than a decade had passed since his first Portkey jump but try as he might, Harry still hated the feeling of confoundment immediately afterwards.

That and the fact that elegantly landing on his feet was always such a chore and never a given.

He much preferred Apparition but for that Romania was a little too far away from Britain.

He tried to shake off the persistent buzzing in his head and peaking inside the straw-filled wooden crate in his arms, he checked on the dragon egg that lay inside.

It was perfectly unscathed and feeling relieved, Harry walked the last fifty metres towards Charlie’s cottage right on the outskirts of the Dragon Reserve.

The house looked tiny from the outside but that was just an illusion, a grand one at that too.

Charlie’s quaint little two-storey cottage looked typically English with its thatched roof and the English ivy that grew all around it. The plant had even started to grow up the wall and Charlie didn’t seem inclined to do anything about stopping it. The bricks used to build the cottage were of all shapes and sizes, giving it a distinctly unique feel. The white door gleamed in the warm late morning sunshine and most of the curtains behind the nine double windows, Harry could see, were open. Soft grass surrounded the entire cottage and even though Harry was wearing shoes, he could feel his soles sink into the thick grass and it made walking a complete pleasure.

Inside, the cottage was spacious and very comfortable as Harry remembered from previous visits and the one or other extended stay. It spread out over three floors — the ground floor offering up airy rooms for living, working, reading, exercising, and cooking. Charlie’s bedroom, master bathroom and the guest rooms were on the first floor while the cellar housed an elaborate dungeon that was Charlie’s pride and joy.

Just as Harry approached, the front door of the cottage opened and Charlie, barefoot and dressed in a pair of old rugged Muggle jeans and a long-sleeved jumper, stood in the doorway.

He grinned broadly and leant against one side of the wooden doorframe.

“Come on in before the dragons decide your scarlet Auror robes look edible,” he laughed.

Rolling his eyes Harry thrust the crate with the dragon egg into Charlie’s arms and pushed past him and into the cottage.

The scent of roast beef assaulted him and for a moment he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply — funnily enough Charlie’s cottage always smelled a little bit like the Burrow and Harry felt just as at home here as he did in Ottery St. Catchpole.

“Liam is cooking. I hope you don’t mind that he’s naked?” Charlie said.

Harry turned on his heels and held his gaze, trying to gauge whether Charlie was having him on or whether he was genuinely concerned that he might take offence at having to look at a naked man. He decided that Charlie was being his usual mischievous self but instead of falling for his bait, Harry decided to be polite.

“I’ve seen worse than a naked slave cooking,” he said.

Bending forward, he wrangled with his Auror-issued dragonhide boots and cursed under his breath when they refused to come off immediately. He stumbled a little and nearly lost his balance, but thankfully Charlie steadied him and sitting down on the second step from the bottom, Harry carefully removed his boots and put them aside.

“Just making sure. I don’t know what your arrangement with Draco is and whether you’re allowed to look at a gorgeous piece of Irish arse or not.”

Harry bit back a scathing response but glared instead. Charlie merely shrugged and glanced inside the crate.

“Ah, a Peruvian Vipertooth, nice find, Potter. I’ll have someone from the hatchery come over to pick it up,” he said.

He drew his wand, swished it and wordlessly summoned his Patronus; a misty silvery miniature version of the Antipodean Opaleye dragon, and mumbling something in Romanian, he dispatched it with a message.

“I need you to sign some paperwork; the department requires a record that I handed the dragon egg over to you or Filing will have my head and I’d honestly rather not battle with them again, they drive me up the walls as is,” Harry said.

He pulled a rolled-up parchment from the inside pocket of his scarlet Auror robes, undid the clasp at the top and took off his outer robes and hung them on a coat hook just behind the door.

Charlie nodded.

“Not the first time the Ministry delivered confiscated dragon eggs to the reserve.”

He smiled and motioned for Harry to follow him down the hall and into the kitchen. There, Charlie placed the crate with the dragon egg on the worktop beside the wine rack and they both took a seat at the kitchen table.

“Liam, be a good boy now and say hello to Harry, he’ll be joining us for lunch so you’ll need to add another plate to the table,” Charlie called across the kitchen.

When Liam turned around and Harry tried not to smirk when he spotted the cock cage Liam’s poor bits were enclosed in.

Despite his curiosity, he refrained from asking what Liam had done to deserve the punishment since he remembered Charlie not being a fan of using a chastity device on a regular basis — he preferred training his slave to willingly obey him and resist the urge to pleasure himself at all times. To Charlie, this type of submission was the ultimate proof of his slave’s obedience — the ability to show restraint and honour his Master’s wishes.

It did remind Harry a little bit of what Draco was presently going through.

So far, it had been three days and Draco was managing but Harry could tell that he wasn’t exactly happy about not having permission to wank and when Harry had denied him his orgasm last night, he had quietly fumed to himself and grumpily refused the offer of a cuddle.

At first, Harry had wanted to threaten him with a spanking for being bratty but since they’d never played with orgasm control and denial before, at least not over the course of several days, he had decided to show Draco some leniency and had given him a little space instead. It had paid off and after quietly seething for about fifteen minutes, Draco had crawled across the bed and quietly curled up in his arms, where he’d eventually fallen asleep.

“Hullo Harry, been a while. How are ye?”

Liam greeted him with a polite smile and Harry temporarily pushed his musings about his and Draco’s little control game to the back of his mind.

“Great thanks,” Harry replied, then compliment Liam on the cooking.

“The food smells amazing, Charlie is lucky to have you.”

Charlie chuckled.

“That depends entirely on how well-behaved he is. Aren’t I right, gorgeous?”

“Yes, Master Charlie.”

Liam nodded in response and lowered his head slightly with his arms resting at his sides. Getting up, Charlie crossed the kitchen and ruffled his light-brown hair affectionately.

“Good boy,” he said quietly and kissed the top of Liam’s head.

Harry politely turned away to give them a moment of privacy and couldn’t help but wonder whether he and Draco would ever have that kind of relationship — well they already did but on an entirely different level. The BDSM aspect of the relationship was only partly there and while Harry wasn’t in a rush to change things, he couldn’t deny craving it sometimes, though he had no plans to act on his desires. Pushing Draco into a full-on BDSM relationship wasn’t something he ever planned to do.

Charlie and Liam had been an item for several years now and their level of intimacy was what Harry craved the most. He wanted things with Draco to work out and to last for as long as possible.

While Charlie did occasionally play with other subs, though never without Liam’s knowledge, he never brought any of them home because the cottage was theirs and theirs alone. It was their home, their place to play, their private space to be entirely at ease with each other and to live the life they wanted to live.

Harry smiled. He’d always had a soft spot for Charlie and Liam; they were a great couple in every sense of the way.

A minute or so later Harry once again found himself pulled from his musings and Charlie, who had finished talking to Liam, suggested that they head into the living room to relax a bit before lunch was ready.

Harry accepted and getting up, he followed Charlie out of the kitchen.

Once in the living room they took a seat on the comfortable worn leather sofa by the window and while Charlie threw his right leg over his left, Harry sat facing Charlie and folded his left foot and ankle underneath his right thigh. He let his right foot dangle off the sofa and drew random patterns onto the soft rug beneath his foot. As he did so, he wordlessly handed Charlie the scroll of parchment he had brought along.

Charlie opened it up, scanned over the document, then signed in the relevant space at the bottom of the page and rolling it up again, he placed it and the quill on the table in front of the sofa.

When Harry attempted to reach for the parchment, Charlie swiftly moved it out of reach, leaving Harry to frown with mild annoyance. Charlie’s childish behaviour was a little more than irritating.

“Weasley!”

Charlie merely smirked and Harry crossed his arms over his chest and huffed.

“Tell me, Harry Potter, since when does the Head of the Auror Department himself deliver confiscated unhatched dragon eggs to a Dragon Reserve in the depths of the Romanian forest?”

Harry shrugged and keeping his arms crossed over his chest, he defiantly stared at Charlie, holding his gaze.

“It’s my case and I decided to tie up loose ends.”

“Bullshit,” Charlie said straight out.

He fixed him with such a piercing stare that Harry instantly felt uncomfortable and while he managed to resist the urge to shuffle and hold Charlie’s gaze, he didn’t manage to keep his arms crossed and unfolding them, he rested his hands in his lap.

Still, he wasn’t going to fall for Charlie’s little mindfucks.

“Any trainee Auror could take care of the simple delivery of a dragon egg, or don’t you trust your staff?”

Harry rolled his eyes.

“I recall you enthusiastically inviting me to stay for lunch when I fire-called yesterday morning,” he countered.

Charlie laughed.

“I’m hardly going to turn down a visit from the great Harry Potter now, am I?”

“Now who is full of bullshit.”

Harry sighed and lunging forward, he snatched the scroll from Charlie.

“Once a Seeker, always a Seeker,” he said triumphantly and pointedly ignored the voice in his head that told him he was acting just as childish as Charlie. He stuffed the scroll into his uniform and smiled when Liam walked into the room with a tea tray and biscuits.

Liam served their tea without lifting his head to look at Charlie but quietly told them that he hoped they would enjoy the tea, then elegantly turned on his heel and left the room.

Harry reached for his teacup and bringing it up to his mouth, he carefully blew at the hot liquid and glanced over the rim and at Charlie, who was scrutinising him silently.

“He’s sweet,” Harry said, deliberately stalling for time, though he knew he wouldn’t get away with it for very long. Not with Charlie, never with Charlie.

“Liam?” Charlie smiled. “Yeah, when he wants to be my gorgeous boy is a right darling. He can be a right brat though.”

“You love it.”

Harry chuckled and took a careful sip from his tea. It was just hot enough to warm his insides but not hot enough to burn his lips or his mouth.

“He makes a decent cup of tea.”

“I should hope so, took him long enough to learn it. Some lessons take the threat of a cane before they sink in properly.”

Harry nodded in silent agreement and watched as Charlie reached for his own tea and drank some of it with a content expression on his face, then schooled his features and gave him a long hard look.

“Spill it already, Harry, I’ve known you look enough to know the difference between a friendly visit and you needing to get something off your chest,” he said.

“Delivering a dragon egg… _Please_ , you’ve had better excuses over the years.”

Charlie smiled and uncrossing his legs, he gently nudged his foot against Harry’s.

Harry sighed.

He took another sip of tea, then set the cup down on its saucer on the table. He had known that Charlie would see right through his charade and he was glad that he did.

There wasn’t anything he managed to hide from Charlie, especially not when it was related to the lifestyle. Charlie knew him too well for that and it meant to the world to Harry to have a person, a brother, a friend, and a mentor, whom he could rely on.

Harry sighed again and decided to come right out with it because it really was the least painful way and he did want to tell Charlie. Sometimes, he just enjoyed their little cat and mouse game way too much and other times it was difficult to give voice to his thoughts and he needed time to warm up — Charlie always gave him that time. He pushed and prodded but he knew exactly how far to go and at what point to pull back.

“Draco asked me for a contract. A proper D/s relationship contract.”

Charlie regarded him for a moment, then drank his tea.

“Did you agree?”

Harry shook his head.

“No.”

“Did you give him a reason?”

“Of course, I did, don’t be daft now, I've not been doing this since yesterday. I told him I thought he wasn’t ready for it.”

Charlie smiled.

“I can’t imagine that conversation went down well. Draco Malfoy doesn’t strike me as the kind of person who takes no for an answer.”

Harry shrugged, although deep down he felt truly smug.

“He takes my no for an answer. Sometimes anyway.”

Charlie chuckled softly and there was a knowing twinkle in his eyes. Harry knew he had understood; and that he didn’t need to explain.

Draco absolutely wasn’t the kind of the person who settled for a _no_.

It simply wasn’t in his disposition to do so.

He could be downright stubborn. Then again, they shared that trade. Before he had defeated Voldemort, Harry had never taken _no_ for an answer.

It had taken the discovery of BDSM and the realisation that domination gave him a kick, a rush, a high.

Only then, and with the help of both Charlie and Caleb, had he learnt how to say no and mean it. He’d also learnt how to make properly make a promise and mean it. The rules, the order, the structure, it meant to the world to Harry and the mere idea of violating any of them made him shudder and recoil in disgust.

“Fuck, Charlie, I’m a fucking mess.”

“Yeah, I can tell. Only you would conclude that delivering a dragon egg to me in person is the solution to all your problems.”

Charlie spoke softly, his voice warm and gentle and Harry revelled in it.

When Charlie reached out and placed his hand on his knee, Harry exhaled audibly and raked his fingers through his unruly hair.

“It was completely unexpected; I didn’t even know he’d been thinking about it. We had dinner at the Burrow the other night, finally took him to meet Molly you know, and Teddy insisted that Ron and I play a game of chess. Draco offered to play on my behalf but he wanted a trade-off. Said he’d save my arse in front of Ron and Teddy if I agree to a deal. Anything, no limits. I didn’t think much about it and just agreed, should have used my brain really, I mean he’s a Slytherin through and through and a prosecutor too. But honestly, we were at the Burrow and I was just so happy that everything was going well. Afterwards, well I thought he might ask me to bottom or some such shit, but no, he used that to ask me for a contract. Saying no to him then, saying no to that, fuck, Charlie, hand my heart, that was the hardest thing I ever did. I wanted to say yes so badly, but I just couldn’t. I couldn’t in good conscience agree to negotiate a contract with him, temporary or not. Fuck, Charlie, tell me I’m not a bad person, because I honestly have no idea how I kept it together for long enough to say no to him.”

“What we want and what we do are two very different things, Harry.”

“I know, but I wanted to say yes, I wanted it bad. Saying yes, it would have been so easy.”

“Harry. Listen to me, and listen to me carefully. Sometimes I want to whip Liam until the skin on his back breaks and I see blood trickling down his thighs. Not out of anger or some sort of sick perversion but I just enjoy the idea of it, in my head, the fantasy. He knows that I feel that way, I’ve told him. Complete honesty, you know that one. Now, have I ever done it? _No_. Will I ever do it? _No_. Is Liam scared that I might lose control one day and do it? _No_. Why? Because I know what’s right for him and what isn’t. We both know what’s sane and what isn’t. I don’t need to tell you that you made the right decision, you know that yourself.”

Deep-down Harry knew that Charlie was right and that everything he had said made perfect sense, he had known it even before he had decided to pay his friend and mentor a visit, but he’d come so close to getting something he really wanted and—

“Snap out of it, Harry,” Charlie said firmly.

Blinking, Harry focused on Charlie. He leant forward and reached for his tea and wrapping his hands around the cup, he slowly drank about half of it, then sighed.

“I’m an idiot.”

Charlie smiled.

“Yes, but an adorable one. And you thought Draco wasn’t into it, I think, even though he bit off more than he can chew, he just proved you wrong and massively so.”

“Can I be perfectly honest with you?”

“I wouldn’t want you to be anything else with me, Harry, you know that.”

“I’m still waiting for this whole thing to go pear-shaped and for him to realise he’s been doing it to make me happy because he knows it’s my thing. What we’ve done so far, it’s child’s play.”

“If you really think that he’s doing this for you, then you’re more fucked up than I ever realised,” Charlie said.

Harry frowned but said nothing in response. Instead, he let Charlie continue.

“Luckily for you, I know you don’t really think that. Otherwise, you and I would have to have a very serious discussion. What you’re scared about isn’t the dominance and submission aspect of your relationship going pear-shaped, it’s the actual relationship going pear-shaped. You love him, he loves you, you both have a history. You’d be mental not to be scared about it, and excuse my ill-placed pun, going arse up.”

Harry couldn’t help it. He laughed. Loud. Unrestrained. Without hesitation. He just laughed.

Charlie had, as ever, seen right through him and given it to him straight.

That was exactly what he loved about Charlie.

And Caleb.

They both saw right through his bullshit; they both saw the real Harry.

The one he sometimes tried to hide from himself.

Not often, not anymore, but occasionally.

Because forgetting all the shit he had gone through before he had even turned eighteen, well, sometimes it helped.

“There’s my Harry. Welcome back, youngling.”

Charlie chuckled and raising his own teacup in a silent toast, he finished it off.

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes and Harry relished in the weight that had fallen off his shoulders.

Charlie had the amazing talent to make him feel so much better about himself yet it always seemed like he never did or said much to achieve that goal.

“I told him about the scar, well not willingly, not at first, but I had to.”

Harry broke the silence after a while and setting his teacup down on the table, he clasped his hands together and firmly fought the urge to rub his thumb over the scar on his wrist.

“How did he take it?”

Harry sighed.

“When he first saw it, he was convinced I’d tried to kill myself. So, really had to tell him. He took it reasonably well though, listened to the whole story. I think he was shocked but he tried his best to hide it.”

“Did you also tell him that you ran to me for help?”

Charlie grinned and Harry let out a low groan.

“Don’t remind me. He thought you and I were—”

Harry paused and shuddered.

“Don’t make me say it, please. No offence but what with our relationship, the thought is off-putting.”

“Boyfriends? Lovers? Fuck buddies?”

Charlie teased mercilessly and for a moment Harry considered throwing a stinging hex at him.

“No wait, he thought you were my little plaything? My obedient little pet slave.”

“Weasley, I swear, if you don’t shut the fuck up, I’ll make you eat slugs.”

“You’re into some kinky shit, Potter.”

Charlie laughed and when the doorbell rang, he rose to his feet.

“That’ll be the guy from the hatchery, I’ll be back in a bit,” he said.

He walked towards the door but halfway across the threshold he stopped and turned around.

“You know, Harry, I’d love to see you try to make me eat slugs.”

Harry growled and drawing his wand he fired a stinging hex at Charlie, who merely laughed.

“Stop that, you know I’m ticklish,” he said with a broad grin, then disappeared out into the hallway.

* * *

* * *

 

 

> _Tell me, if I were to strip you naked and bent you over my desk, would I have to hold you down, my little prince?_
> 
> _Or would you stay down for me like the good boy that you are?_
> 
> _Perhaps you would prefer to struggle?_
> 
> _Release a bit of the frustration over your lack of orgasms lately?_
> 
> _Would you like to feel me forcefully holding you down?_
> 
> _Because, let’s face it, my little prince, a pretty thing like you is easy to hold down._
> 
> _One hand between your shoulders is enough, you’ll never free yourself, not unless I let you._
> 
> _Close your eyes, my love, can you feel my hand on your back?_
> 
> _I’d keep you down while my other hand explores what you so shamelessly offer me as I keep you bent over my desk._
> 
> _Fuck, Draco, that arse of yours, just thinking about it makes me hard._
> 
> _I want to fuck that tight hole of yours._
> 
> _I want to hear you scream my name and beg for permission to come._
> 
> _Will you get it?_
> 
> _You want that too, don’t you?_
> 
> _I think what you want right now is for me to come into your office and take you, claim you, own you, defile you, and make you scream my name while I have my wicked way with you._
> 
> _Tell me, are you hard?_
> 
> _Mm, I bet you are; hard and so fucking desperate._
> 
> _Damn, it’s not even lunchtime._
> 
> _How will you cope?_
> 
> _Now, be a good boy, go to the men’s room down the corridor and take off your underwear, then put them in that empty box, I sent you, and have them delivered to my office._
> 
> _I want to smell your arousal._
> 
> _I want to wank to the scent of it, while you can do nothing but think about me getting off._
> 
> _Do as I say, my little prince._
> 
> _Harry x_
> 
> _P.S. If you don’t want to do it, message me your safeword._

* * *

* * *

Draco carefully placed the parchment on his desk and ran his fingers over the message Harry had sent him. His hands were shaking and he could barely think straight. His eyes fell onto the empty plain black box that hat come with Harry’s letter and he swallowed hard.

For the past five days, Harry had been an outrageous tease and Draco was sure that he was close to reaching his breaking point.

Each day, Harry either whispered pure filth into his ear, sent naughty messages or brought him right to the edge of his orgasm without giving him the sweet pleasure of release — no matter how much he begged or pleaded.

Draco was going stir-crazy and he had no idea how much more he could take before he blew a fuse — this little battle of wills wasn’t at all going in his favour.

Harry had asked for control over his orgasms for two weeks and the thought of having to endure the power Harry had over him for another nine days drove Draco around the bend yet it also aroused him more than he ever thought possible.

Draco was painfully hard, his cock was straining against his trousers, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. He no longer had permission to bring himself off and Harry had made it very clear that he had to ask for his orgasm if he wanted one, which really wasn’t anything new, except now Harry had gone and taken things several steps further. Draco had asked for it, several times and very politely, but Harry had repeatedly denied him.

Sighing softly, Draco spread his legs and letting his hand fall into his lap, he palmed his cock through his trousers and let out a low groan. He fell back against his chair and closed his eyes. In a pathetic attempt to calm his frazzled nerves, he concentrated on his breathing but his hand, gently resting against the hard outline of his cock made all rational thought impossible.

 

 

> _You won’t be touching your cock at all unless you’re taking a leak that is_.

  
Harry’s words resounded in his head and Draco found himself sitting bolt upright in his office chair. He blinked and staring at the door, he was glad that he had, for once, remembered to close it behind himself.

“Fuck.”

He mumbled the curse under his breath and reluctantly placed both hands on the table, he willed them to stop shaking.

In the space of five days, Harry hard reduced him to a needy mess and Draco was willing to do almost anything if it meant Harry would call off this torture and finally allow him an orgasm.

The power Harry held over him, it was both maddening and exhilarating and before Draco realised what he was doing, he found himself on his feet.

He reached for the plain black box on his desk and rearranging his prosecutor’s robes, he left the office and headed for the men’s.

Finding a free cubicle was easy and carefully taking off his robes, he placed them on the hook on the door. He closed the toilet lid, placed the box down on it and undoing his trousers, he stepped out of his shiny black oxfords and took his grey slacks off.

Draco draped them over his shoulders and took a deep breath before removing his grey silken boxers. He glared at his hard cock; it twitched and bobbed and begged for attention and Draco just wanted to wrap his hand around his cock and stroke himself to completion.

At this stage, he didn’t even care for a bit of lube, dry would do. It would be uncomfortable and maybe even a little painful but right, Draco didn’t care; he didn’t care about anything.

An orgasm was all that mattered; it was all he wanted.

He was desperate to come and as he stood there, naked from the waist down with his hard cock jutting out from underneath his white dress shirt, he felt sorely tempted to just go for it.

Harry wouldn’t know, would he?

He didn’t have to know.

Draco didn’t have to tell him.

Just one orgasm.

Just a little bit of a relief from all the teasing and the constant erections he had to will away because Harry seemingly had no intention of taking care of him.

 _Ah, but you’ll know you cheated, you’ll know that you didn’t follow Harry’s instructions and you’ll be the one who will have to look him in the eye and lie. If he finds out you lied, he won’t be pleased and you will have failed_ , a treacherous voice in his head whispered and Draco growled in frustration.

 

 

> _If you don’t want to do it, message me your safeword_.

  
Harry’s postscript, thoughtful as always, a brief reminder that Draco could refuse, had the power to do so, pushed itself to the forefront of his mind and gritting his teeth, Draco reached for the box.

He opened it, stuffed his boxers inside and drawing his wand, he fired a wordless locking spell at it.

If Harry really wanted his underwear, he could damn well put in a bit of work to figure out the counter-curse for that spell — and it wasn’t Alohomora!  
  
_Take that, Potter_ , Draco thought darkly but felt only marginally satisfied. He carefully did up his trousers, slid back into his oxfords and donned his robes.

He rearranged himself, flushed the toilet he hadn’t used and stepped out of the cubicle. Once in the main room, he jammed the box under his arm, washed his hands and gave a fellow prosecutor a curt nod.

On his way back to his office, he stopped one of the messenger boys, the department employed for the sole purpose of communicating with a variety of legal representatives, who looked at him as though his final hour had struck.

Disinclined to appease the boy, Draco rudely thrust the box into his hands.

“Have that delivered to Director Potter of the DMLE, post haste. Tell him Prosecutor Malfoy sends his regards.”

He snapped his instructions at the poor messenger boy who stammered something incomprehensible, then dashed off.

Draco glared after him and for a moment he thoroughly regretted that he had only fired a locking spell at the box.

“Should’ve hit it with a dark curse to make his fingertips burn off when he tries to lift the lid,” Draco mumbled and instead of returning to his office to continue skimming through a stack of incriminating purchase orders, he strode down the corridor and into the large open-plan office.

“Allaway!”

He hollered the young paralegal’s name, ignoring several witches and wizards around him who briefly stopped what they were doing and scuttled out of his way.

“Prosecutor Malfoy, Sir?”

A young witch ran towards him, her trainee robes billowing behind her as she did.

Draco crossed his arms over his chest and glowered at her.

“Do you need help, Sir?” she asked.

“No, a friendly chat between colleagues.”

Draco rolled his eyes and fixed her with an icy glare, silently challenging her to take him seriously.

She didn’t and he instantly hated her for it.

“What do you need done?”

“I need a complete record of _all_ of Abraxas Vogel prior infarctions, down to the last knut he ever embezzled and I don’t care if he picked it off the ground on Diagon Alley. The documents I have now only relate to the potions case, idiot Aurors and their complete lack of knowledge when it comes to preparing an iron-clad case. All they know how to do is wave a pair of shackles and threaten with Azkaban.”

“I’ll head over to the DMLE right away, you’ll have it on your desk before lunch.”

Draco raised an eyebrow at her, momentarily held her gaze, then shrugged.

“That better be the case or I’ll have you transcribing court records for the remainder of your apprenticeship with me.”

“You’ll have what you need, I promise,” she reassured him.

Draco gave her a curt nod, then turned around and made his way back to his office.

Having snapped at the messenger boy and his legal assistant hadn’t made him feel any better about his and Harry’s agreement and halfway down to his office, he stopped, turned back and decided that he needed an extremely strong coffee before he was ready to deal with whatever delightful things the rest of the day would undoubtedly end up throwing his way.


	42. All Actions Have Consequences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet another chapter that was painful to write. Not in the sense that I struggled with its creation but more so because I allowed my imagination to run away with me and it became someone else job to put me back in my place, which resulted in several rewrites and fabulous discussions.
> 
> Having a muse who is also your sounding board, your alpha reader and your best friend truly is a gift I will absolutely cherish forever.
> 
> Do enjoy!
> 
> Selly x

* * *

Harry slowly slid the black mahogany chiffonier’s top drawer back into place and was about to turn around when two pale and lithe long arms slithered around his waist.

He felt Draco pressing himself against his back, felt his chin on his shoulder and his warm breath on his neck and hummed in quiet approval.

Nimble hands splayed themselves across his chest and instead of turning around, Harry simply braced himself on the chiffonier.

He allowed Draco’s hands to travel up and down his arms, caressing them through the dark green fleece shirt he had put on this morning.

“Sir.”

Draco breathed the word into his ear and Harry tilted his head a little to the side and silently allowed Draco to trail a series of kisses along his neck.

Those deft hands found their way back to his chest and long, slender fingers began to expertly unbutton his shirt, exposing his torso bit by bit.

Draco’s fingertips ghosted over his chest and they gently toyed with his coarse chest hair and teased Harry’s nipples.

Harry let out a low but distinctly audible breath, a content sigh of sorts, and closing his eyes he allowed himself to enjoy the unexpected treat. He had only popped upstairs to the playroom to put something away and when he left the living room, Draco had been sitting on the sofa, fully dressed, and engrossed in the transcript of an old court hearing.

Now his hands where almost everywhere, flitting between places, touching, caressing, teasing, stimulating.

It felt good and before long a low moan escaped Harry’s lips. He shuffled into a slightly more comfortable stance, spreading his legs a bit further apart as he did so.

“Sir, please let me take care of you, let me please you.”

Draco murmured into his ear and Harry smirked.

One of Draco’s hands was resting on his upper arm, squeezing gently, while his other was tracing random patterns all over his bare chest. Harry caught the hand on his chest and pushed it down, past his navel.

He let it rest on top of his belt buckle and decided to let Draco figure out for himself what it was he wanted.

Draco pressed his lips to his neck and his hand slid lower. He pressed his palm against Harry’s half-hard cock and massaged it through the fabric of his black jeans, alternating between slow, teasing rubs and firmer squeezes and Harry felt his blood rush south.

“I love your cock, Sir, I love the hardness of it in my hands, between my lips, inside of me.”

Draco continued to whisper pure filth into his ear and Harry bit his lips to hold back a moan.

Instead, he tightened his hold on the edges of the chiffonier in front of him and thrust into Draco’s hand.

Draco brought his other hand down to Harry’s belt buckle and undid it effortlessly. He popped the button, pulled the zipper down and pushing his hand inside, he palmed Harry’s erection through the thin fabric of his black boxers.

“ _Ngh_.”

Harry let out a low groan and resisted the urge to give Draco any instructions. He wanted to, quite badly so and because it was in his nature to do so, but his curiosity was stronger. More than anything, he wanted to know what Draco was playing at and although he had a very good idea, he deviously decided to let the scene play out.

 _Let’s see how long it takes until you realise, you’re not in charge_ , Harry thought and smiled when Draco pushed in front of him and elegantly sank to his knees.

He was a little surprised to find that Draco was completely naked and was wearing his collar too. On top of that, he was hard, though he seemingly paid no heed to his own erection.

Instead, he busied himself with pulling Harry’s jeans and his boxers down to his mid-thighs.

Harry’s cock sprang free and he hissed a little when the sudden coolness of the air around him teased his cock.

Draco wrapped one hand around the base of his cock, leant forward and placed a kiss on the tip of his cock, then looked up at him through slightly lowered lashes and with a deliciously shy smile.

Harry ran the fingers of his left hand through Draco’s soft hair and smiled down at him. The only difference was that his smile wasn’t a shy one. He hadn’t been shy about things in a very long time.

A moment of silence passed between them, then Draco parted his lips, wrapped them around his cock and sucked him deep into his hot warm wet mouth.

Harry curled his fingers tightly into Draco’s hair but didn’t guide him in any way.

Instead, he silently praised the fervent enthusiasm with which Draco gave him head. He rolled his hips just a little and Draco adjusted the speed with which he bobbed his head — the action perfectly coordinated with the movement of Harry’s hips.

“Look at me.”

Harry whispered the instruction, settling for a soft tone to convey his command, and Draco glanced up.

His eyes were shining with lust and unadulterated desire and taking him a little deeper, he made it blatantly obvious that he thoroughly enjoyed having Harry’s cock in his mouth.

The warm wetness surrounding his cock felt so good and Draco’s tongue teased him in all the right places at just the right time — Draco was extremely good at giving head and he knew it too. The pressure was perfect, the speed was just right and the depth exhilarating.

Harry felt his orgasm built though he had no intention of letting go any time soon.

Draco gently fondled his balls, running his fingertips along, over, and around them. He pulled off Harry’s cock and stroking it with his hand, he kissed his balls, suckled on them, and teased and worshipped them with his tongue.

Harry groaned and steadied himself on the chest of drawers in front of him. He tugged on Draco’s hair, wound his fingers even tighter into the blond silken strands and when Draco sucked his cock back into his mouth, Harry moaned and bucked his hips. The top of his cock hit the back of Draco’s mouth and Draco made a small gagging noise. He withdrew a little but was remarkably quick to adjust to the unexpected sensation. He flexed and relaxed his throat muscles and pulling back about halfway, he gazed up at Harry with complete adoration.

Harry smiled and guiding Draco’s head, he began to thrust into his mouth, fucking the warm wet cavern, Draco so willingly and wantonly offered to him.

Draco took it well and managed to keep his gagging to a minimum, even when Harry purposefully thrust in deep and then stopped Draco from being able to pull back. He gave it several seconds and when Draco struggled to breathe properly, he released him and continued to fuck into his mouth at a leisurely pace.

Harry repeated the earlier action several times and each time he forced Draco to keep his head down longer. He enjoyed the rush of power that flowed through his veins at having Draco, collared and naked, at his knees with his cock in his mouth.

“You’re loving this, aren’t you?”

He teased Draco, how voice low and husky, and unable to answer with words, Draco nodded and hummed around his cock; sending a wave of pleasant vibrations through his groin.

Draco looked like a beautiful painting. His cheeks were pink, flushed from his irregular breathing, and his silvery-grey eyes had darkened considerably. They shone with a distinct kind of passion; one Harry considered to be a complete turn on.

His hands rested on Harry’s bare thighs but he applied no pressure. There was no resistance whatsoever, just complete surrender. Draco’s lips were swollen and deep red and glistening with saliva and right this moment, Harry wanted to fuck him so bad.

He wanted to push Draco down on the floor and take him right there and then. He wanted to spread his legs open, hold him down, keep his legs spread until Draco felt his muscles burn in silent protest. The thought of pushing into him, of filling Draco’s willing hole with his throbbing cock, elicited a low groan from Harry. He wanted to fuck Draco, fuck him hard and feel him writhe underneath him and moan as pleasure and elation slowly replaced discomfort and pain.

Somewhat tired of fucking into Draco’s mouth, Harry allowed Draco to take over again, allowed him to set the pace. He let his eyes fall closed and his head fall back and shamelessly enjoyed the fact that Draco was naked and kneeling in front of him, worshipping his cock with true zeal.

Harry allowed his orgasm to built further, allowed it to spread from the depths of his groin into his abdomen and allowed the pressure and anticipation to build. He forced himself to open his eyes and looking down at Draco, he pulled on his hair to let him know that he was close.

Draco blinked once in silent understanding and added just that little bit more effort to his already extremely apt skills. Harry groaned and felt his knees shake a little, but wasn’t at all concerned with the possibility of falling over.

When he was seconds away from his orgasm, Draco surprisingly pulled his mouth off his cock and worked him with his hand instead. His grip was firm, his pace fast and Harry decided that he didn’t want to hold back anymore. He allowed his orgasm to surge through him and groaned when Draco opened his mouth, clearly prepared to let him come all over his face.

And that was exactly what Harry did. He came hard and on a low growl of something that almost sounded like Draco’s name.

Rope after rope of his hot white come splashed onto Draco’s face.

Some of it ended up on his tongue, some of it on his lips, and some of it on his flushed cheeks. A few drops dribbled down his chin and fell to the floor.

Draco stroked him until his orgasm had run its course, then slowed the movement of his hand gradually before he stopped altogether.

He kept his eyes locked on Harry’s and slowly, and very salaciously, licked his lips, then closed his mouth and swallowed Harry’s come with a thoroughly content expression on his face. He looked a bit like a cat who’d gotten the cream.

“Hmm, look at you, you slutty little thing.”

Harry whispered the words breathlessly and hummed. His hand was still in Draco’s hair and he tugged on it, not hard enough for it to hurt but most definitely hard enough for Draco to feel it.

“You just love having my cock in your mouth, don’t you?”

“ _Ngh_ , yes, Sir.”

Draco nodded, brought his hand up to his cheek and whipping some of Harry’s come off, he licked it off the back of his hand.

He was deliberately obscene about it and the Harry tugged harder, forcing a whimper to fall from Draco’s lips.

“Tell me, my little prince, are you my dirty little cock slut? Are you?”

Draco’s red lips, still glistening with Harry’s come and his own saliva, curled upward into a cheeky little smile.

“Yes Sir, I love your cock. I love to suck it and I love the way you taste.”

He tried to sit back on his haunches but Harry merely pulled on his hair and that kept him in place. Draco briefly grimaced at the sharp pain of the tug, but Harry loosened his grip and soothingly massaged Draco’s scalp.

“What did I do to deserve such an unexpected treat, my love?”

“I just wanted to please you, Sir.”

Harry smirked and running his fingers through Draco’s hair, he placed his hand underneath his chin and gripped it firmly, holding it in place.

“No ulterior motives then?”

He pressed and watched Draco’s face carefully as he gave him a chance to come clean and confess.

“None, Sir.”

Draco attempted to shake his head but Harry had a firm grip on his chin and made that entirely impossible.

He fixed Draco with a stern glare, held on for another minute or so, then let go and unceremoniously pulled his boxers back up, then fixed his jeans and tugged his shirt back in.

For a moment, he wanted to pull his leather belt out of its loops and fold it in half, then threaten to bring it down on Draco’s yet unmarred pale buttocks but he resisted the temptation of that punishment. It was a bit much for Draco and there were other ways of teaching him a lesson.

So, instead of taking his belt off, Harry fastened it and taking a step back, he crossed his arms over his chest and fixed Draco with a hard glare.

“Draco, you’re being painfully obvious about what you want and using a blowjob to try and get it is extremely underhanded,” he said, his voice firm and unwavering.

“I—”

Draco started to defend himself but Harry cut in before he could say anything.

“You what, Draco? What is it that you want?”

“You know what I want, Harry.”

Draco spoke quietly and averting his gaze, he lowered his head and slowly moved his hands behind his back.

Harry didn’t let the subtle submissive gesture appease him. He wasn’t angry but he most definitely felt rather irritated and he intended to let Draco know exactly how unacceptable his behaviour had been.

If Draco really wanted a contract at some point in the future, now was his chance to learn and learn he would.

“I don’t recall telling you to look away. I don’t recall allowing it either,” Harry said, ensuring that his voice remained firm and commanding.

He had seen through Draco’s charade right from the start but he had wanted to see how far Draco was willing to go to get what he wanted.

Apparently, there were no limits.

_We’ll see about that, won’t we now?_

Harry smirked inwardly but kept his amusement off his face.

It took Draco forever to lift his head but when he finally did his bottom lip was quivering and his eyes were a little watery. He didn’t look like he was going to cry but he’d most definitely realised that Harry wouldn’t make allowances for his sly little Slytherin games inside the playroom.

 _That won’t butter me up, my little prince_ , Harry thought.

“I’m sorry,” Draco mumbled.

Harry regarded him for a moment.

“What do you want, Draco?”

He repeated his earlier question and watched as Draco pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and nervously gnawed on it.

He remained silent for a minute or two, then confessed, holding Harry’s gaze as he did so.

“I want to come, Sir.”

“And you thought the best way to go about getting what you want is to suck me off and then hope that I return the favour?”

Draco nodded but didn’t speak.

“How very Slytherin of you.”

Harry uncrossed his arms and taking a step forward, he grabbed Draco’s wrists and pulled him to his feet, then walked him straight towards the spanking bench.

Halfway there, Draco stumbled over his own feet but Harry paid no heed to his discomfort and forced him to keep walking.

“Bend over.”

He snarled the instruction harshly into Draco’s ear and pushed him forward, forcing him down on to the bench, then Harry yanked Draco’s arms up his back just far enough to make it uncomfortable for Draco to struggle and he submitted to Harry’s rough handling. He bent over fully and tried to suppress a groan as Harry pressed his torso firmly down onto the benches’ leather padding.

“So, you want to come, huh?” Harry asked.

He looked right at Draco who had turned his head sideways, facing him.

It didn’t take much effort to hold Draco down; he wasn’t actively struggling. The position was uncomfortable and Draco was smart enough to know any attempt to break free was entirely fruitless. Draco’s discomfort was plainly evident in his grimace and although he shuffled his feet, he did not try to wrench his arms out of Harry’s firm grip.

“Yes.”

Draco whispered his response; his voice sounded brittle and he had a rather anxious look in his eyes — it wasn’t actual fear but the certain knowledge that he’d overstepped his boundaries and taken liberties he didn’t have. At the beginning of their little game of orgasm control and denial, Harry had made it very clear that he would punish Draco if he broke the rules and came without permission, either while they had sex or if he gave in and wanked while he was alone.

They’d had a lengthy conversation about it the morning after Draco had asked for a contract and Harry had turned him down but instead tempted him with a prolonged period of submission. He’d explicitly reminded Draco that he did not have the right to wank and that he needed to ask for permission before having an orgasm. He’d also made it very clear to Draco that the decision as to whether he could come was his and only his and that Draco had no say in the matter — unless, of course, he used his safeword. Draco had agreed to the terms of the deal.

“Well, you’ve been wanting that for a few days now, haven’t you?”

“Harry, please—”

“Please what?”

“I want to— I need to come. _Please_.”

“You want to or you need to? Those are two very different things.”

Harry pushed and ran his hand over Draco’s back down to his buttocks. He grabbed it hard and squeezed firmly, causing Draco to whimper as his fingernails, albeit short, dug into the tender skin.

“I need to, please, please, Harry, please. It’s been a week, and I’ve done everything you asked me to. Why won’t you let me come? You’ve never left me hanging this long.”

Draco begged, his frustration over his lack of power in the matter evident. He desperation in his eyes was quite the turn-on though, for the time being, Harry firmly ignored his nether regions and suppressed the urge to chuckle but smirked instead.

“I don’t think you’re desperate enough, Draco,” he said calmly.

Draco groaned.

“I am, please.”

“I believe you.”

“Then will you let me—”

“ _No_ , Draco, the answer is no. You do not get to come,” Harry said with a brusque undertone to his voice as he cut Draco off.

He increased the pressure with which he held Draco down and leaning forward, he brought his lips closer to Draco’s ear.

“Do you honestly think I was born yesterday, Draco? Did you think you could butter me up by putting your collar on, stripping naked and kneeling in front of me? Whatever gave you the impression that a sneaky blowjob would entice me to let you have an orgasm, huh? Do I strike as a pushover, Draco?”

“ _Ngh_ , Harry! You’re not a pushover, you’re— I just— Fuck, _please_ —”

Draco groaned and as his annoyance took hold, he started to struggle a little against Harry’s firm grip.

“You said no wanking, you said I had to ask for permission to come— I asked— I asked so many times. Please— Why won’t you—”

“I remember what I said.”

Harry growled the words into Draco’s ear.

“You know what, Draco, we’ve been talking about what you want so much and I’m growing quite tired of it. I think it’s about time you listen to what I want,” he said and lifting his hand off Draco’s buttock, he raised it into the air and summoned a black leather riding crop.

It flew straight into his hand and he placed it on the spanking bench, in a place that was in Draco’s peripheral vision.

Draco’s eyes widened and straightening up a little, Harry stared down at him. He made sure to keep his expression neutral and positively delighted in the way Draco started to squirm when the silent message slowly began to sink in.

Once it had, Harry pressed his lips to Draco’s ear and told him exactly what he wanted.

“You have the power to stop this game if it gets too much, I’ve told you so more than once and since you haven’t done so, let me tell you something. You do not get to write the rules to this game and you most definitely don’t get to take liberties you don’t have, my little prince. However, since you seem to think that being sly about letting you have an orgasm is perfectly OK, then let me take a moment to tell you exactly what I want to do in response to your impertinence.

I want is to take this fine riding crop and bring it down on your arse until your pale skin is glowing red and you’re begging me to stop. And do you know why? Because you were sneaky and resorted to cheap tricks. Because you tried to take control when it wasn’t your place to do so. Because you lied to me when I asked you whether you had any ulterior motives. What do you think, should I get what I want?”

A shudder surged through Draco and he tried to shake his head.

“No.”

He whimpered softly, sounding all choked up. His voice was dripping with fear and his beautiful silvery-grey eyes were shining with unshed tears.

He looked positively terrified and Harry positively relished in it.

“No? Why not? You want control over your orgasm and you want it so badly that you’re willing to turn into a dirty little cock slut to get what you want. You absolutely do not deserve to come, my little prince. You deserve a red arse and that’s all you deserve. Tell me, how many lashes do you think it would take before you own up to your mistakes? One? Three? Ten? Shall we find out?”

Harry was fully aware that he was pushing Draco to his limits and that he was practically goading him into using his safeword, but right now that was exactly what he wanted. Draco had asked for a contract yet a mere week into a simple game of an extended period of orgasm denial he was struggling to handle the intensity of having to give up control over something that had always been his prerogative and that he clearly still considered his prerogative.

“Harry, please—” Draco begged.

“Please _what_? Please punish me? Please let me come? Please stop? You know what to say if you want me to stop,” Harry said and pausing, he gave Draco the opportunity to consider his options.

He waited, watched, and listened for an entire minute and when Draco remained silent, he continued.

“So, my little prince, you want to control, and you want it badly. Very well, if that’s what you want, I’ll give you control and I’ll even give you a choice. Option one, you can take ten strikes with the riding crop to pay for your insolence and I may let you come tomorrow, providing that you behave until then that is and promise to never ever pull this kind of stunt again. Option two, put your clothes back on, go home and think very carefully about why I am disappointed with you. I will see you tomorrow and we will talk about this at length. Option three, if giving up control over your orgasms is unbearable and you absolutely cannot stand it anymore, use your safeword. I told you I will not be disappointed, this is your right, you can stop the game at any point.”

Harry spoke firmly but slow enough to give Draco a chance to follow and digest the details of each of the options he was giving him.

Once he finished, Draco whimpered and a strangled sob escaped his throat.

He wasn’t crying but Harry could tell that he was close to tears.

“Please don’t make me go home. I want to stay with you,” Draco said with a quiver in his voice.

He spoke quietly and barely loud enough for it to qualify as a whisper.

“Am I to understand that you are turning down option two?” Harry asked, softening his voice a little but remaining firm enough to ensure Draco had no desire to disrespect him any further.

“Yes, Sir.”

Draco gave a small nod, closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply.

“Well, that leaves options three and one. Pick one. Do you need me to repeat the terms of each option for you?”

“No, Sir.”

Draco declined. He kept his eyes closed and breathed slowly, deeply.

“Very well, tell me your choice then.”

Draco remained reticent for nearly a minute and Harry gave him the time he needed to consider his options.

“I don’t want to use my safeword.”

Draco spoke in a brittle, staccato voice, showing clear signs of his nervousness.

However, there was also a determination to his words that surprised Harry and he eased his hold on Draco.

He momentarily braced himself on the side of the spanking bench and wrapped his hands loosely around the flexible hilt of the crop but refrained from lifting the impact toy off the bench.

Draco flinched anyway.

“What is it, my love?”

Harry spoke gently, his voice now completely devoid of his earlier harshness. He slowly ran his fingers through Draco’s hair and watched him open his mouth but no words came out.

Instead, a shudder went through him and he flexed his hands, which were still resting behind his back.

“You are going to punish me, aren’t you?” Draco asked nervously.

Harry nodded.

“Yes, my love. That’s the option you chose.”

For a moment, he wondered whether Draco might try to talk himself out of the punishment he had chosen for himself. He was rather amazed that Draco had chosen corporal punishment at all.

Pain wasn’t really his kink and while his tolerance for it had increased over the last few months, it still wasn’t something he voluntarily chose, at least not now, and Harry respected his boundaries completely.

When it came to the riding crop, however, Harry was fully aware of Draco’s curiosity. So far, he had only used it to tease and excite Draco rather than to punish him.

Apparently, things were about to change.

Harry gave Draco another few moments to warm up to the idea.

He continued to comb the fingers of his left hand through Draco’s hair and since his right hand still rested on top of the crop’s hilt, he slid it off the bench, let it glide through his fingers and caught it at the handle. He slipped the leather wrap, attached to the handle, around his wrist and let the crop dangle from it but made no attempt to start the punishment.

“I’m scared.”

Draco whispered in a quiet, almost childlike voice and Harry crouched down beside the bench so that he was on the same eye level as Draco.

“I know you are,” he said gently.

“Your hand, it’s different. I can take it, I like it. The crop, it terrifies me, Harry.”

The fact that Draco was so truthful about his feelings warmed Harry’s heart and he smiled reassuringly.

“Here, my love, hold my hand. Like this.”

Harry stepped around to the other side of the bench and Draco turned his head to follow his movement. He gently moved Draco’s left hand from behind his back and placed it in his, then squeezed. Draco gripped his hand so tightly it almost hurt but Harry didn’t begrudge him the comfort.

“Now, my love, your right hand. Clasp it around the edge of the bench and hold on tight,” Harry instructed and as Draco followed his order, he gripped the crop’s handle, adjusted his hold, and gently ran the tress down the length of Draco’s back.

Draco shivered and Harry mumbled the incantation of a wandless spell to blanket the room with a gentle warming charm and raise the temperature slightly.

“Ready?” he asked.

Draco whimpered and closing his eyes, he shook his head slightly. He grasped his hand so tightly that Harry couldn’t help but wonder whether he’d have to take Skele-Gro by the end of this session, a thought that made him want to grimace. He absolutely hated that stuff; it was vile and tasted like cat’s vomit.

“You’ve never done ten,” Draco breathed.

“There’s a first for everything, my little prince. As it happens your transgression was rather severe. I’m afraid anything less than that and the message simply won’t sink in. I want you to remember exactly what happens when you try to take control away from me. You may ask for it and I may or may not grant it, but you may not take it. You simply do not have that liberty. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Well, that’s good. Then there’s also the fact that you lied to cover up your sneaky intentions. I knew what you were up to right from the very start, you know? I even gave you a chance to confess. Two chances. Yet you flat-out lied to me. I do not condone lying, you know that, don’t you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You know what you’re being punished for then, correct?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good boy.”

Harry smiled and leaning down, he placed a gentle kiss on Draco’s cheek and lingered above his ear.

“I want you to count each blow. Not in your head, I want you to say it, it will help you cope. If you need me to go slower, tell me. If you think you can’t take it anymore, use your safeword. Clear?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Now you’re all sweet and obedient. If only you’d been like that from the start, you could’ve saved yourself a lot of trouble, tsk, tsk. I really hope you learn your lesson, my little prince. Be prepared, this will hurt, I will not be gentle. This is not fun; this is a punishment.”

Harry made sure to be clear with his instructions, although he had no intentions to take things all the way. He knew exactly how to make ten lashes with the crop hurt viciously without pushing Draco beyond what he would be able to take. He was also acutely aware of the fact that right this moment, all Draco could think of were two things; the fact that he had broken the rules and the fact that he was about to get a proper punishment for it. Harry reckoned that at this stage, Draco would probably consider a gentle tap with the crop a punishment.

He squeezed Draco’s hand, then lifted the crop and brought it down on Draco’s buttocks. Three blows in rapid succession and Draco counted them all. Harry made sure not to strike the same place twice and smiled when he watched Draco’s skin pink, then slowly turn red. He paused for a moment, then delivered the next blow. He hit a little harder and Draco let out a wretched sob and squeezed his hand fiercely but counted the blow just like Harry had asked him to do.

“Breathe, my love. Breathe through it, deep breaths, long inhale, slow exhale.”

Harry delivered two more blows and Draco started crying.

The tears silently spilt over the rim of his eyes and dripped down onto the leather-padded spanking bench.

Harry silently commended him.

He had expected the tears to fall much earlier and Draco’s resolve to take his punishment in his stride, well, Harry couldn’t help but admire him for it.

“Are you okay, my little prince?”

Harry checked in and Draco let out a strangled sob.

“No.”

“Do you need to stop?”

“No, Sir. I will take my punishment.”

Harry paused for a moment and observed Draco carefully. He was clutching at the edge of the spanking bench and he still had a vice-like grip on Harry’s left hand.

His entire body was rigid with tension but the only emotions visible on his face and in his eyes were pain and regret.

There was no stoic bravery, no determination to push himself past what he could take. He wasn’t trying to be fearless or heroic, he was just submitting in the most beautiful way Harry had ever seen yet not expected to see in Draco this early in their relationship.

He decided to put Draco out of his misery and delivered the last four blows in almost rapid succession, only allowing him one shaky deep breath between each blow.

More tears spilt from Draco’s eyes and he continued to sob but he bravely counted the last four blows. The second the last blow had fallen, Harry slid the handle off his wrist, placed the riding crop on the bench and helping Draco to stand, he pulled him into his arms and perching himself on the edge of the bench, he held Draco tight and comforted him by gently rubbing his palm up and down his back.

“My good little prince, I’m so proud of you, so, so, proud. You took your punishment so well, you took it all, you were perfect, just perfect.”

Harry whispered a lot of soft-spoken reassurances.

Draco merely buried his face in his neck and sobbed quietly. He was in pain, both physically and emotionally, Harry could tell that much. He clung to Harry as though his life depended on it and Harry held him tight, shushed him and continued to soothingly rub his back through the worst of it.

“It’s over, my love, it’s over and you did it. You took your punishment, you were so brave, so brave. You’re my good boy, my good little prince. I forgive you, my sweet little prince.”

“Harry—”

“Yes, my love? What do you need?”

“I want— Can I— Please, I want to see—”

Harry suppressed a smirk.

“You want to see your burning red arse?”

“Yes, please, may I?”

Draco pulled back a little and looked at him with red-rimmed watery eyes. He brought his hands up to wipe his tears away but Harry gently caught his wrists before he could do so and shook his head.

“That’s my job, my love,” he murmured and as he used his thumbs to gently brush the wetness off Draco’s cheeks and away from underneath his eyes, a fresh wave of hot and salty tears spilt over the rim of Draco’s beautiful clear silvery-grey eyes.

“Don’t cry, my sweet boy. Come with me, my love, let me show you your beautifully red arse.”

Harry gently led Draco, who moved rather gingerly, over to one of the floor-length mirrors near the bed and adjusted two of them so that Draco could comfortably look at himself and as he did so, Harry ever so gently traced the marks on his arse, showing them off and whispering sweet nothings into Draco’s ear as he did so.

Every now and then, Harry applied gentle pressure to the marks and Draco winced each time he did. Stepping a bit closer still, Harry ran his fingers through Draco’s hair and resting his hand at the back of his neck, he pulled him close.

“You are so beautiful, my love. Just look at yourself, look at that shiny red arse, just beautiful, stunning. I love you so much.”

“It hurts, it really hurts,” Draco mumbled.

He tentatively reached behind himself as if to touch his markings and shyly let his fingers hover above the welts for a minute, then gently touched one and hissed.

“Fuck, it’s really fucking sore.”

Harry smiled.

“I know. We’ll put some ointment on it in a minute. Are you okay?”

“I don’t know.”

Draco answered truthfully and with a shrug. He twisted a little more, he looked at his arse in the mirror, then suddenly huffed out a breathy laugh.

“This is fucked up. I gave you a blowjob and got spanked for it.”

“Hey.”

Harry clicked his tongue and placing a single finger on Draco’s cheek, he forced him to look at him.

“I didn’t punish you because you gave me a blowjob, I would never do that.”

Draco sighed.

“I know, poor phrasing. Sue me.”

“Know a good solicitor?”

Harry smirked and pulled Draco close for a kiss.

“Plenty.”

Draco answered his question when they pulled apart a short moment later.

“Can they beat you?”

“No.”

Draco smirked, then made a self-deprecating joke.

“There isn’t a lawyer in the world who can beat me. Try the Head of the British Auror Department though, he can. In fact, he just did.”

Harry laughed.

“Well, it’s good to hear you didn’t lose your sass.”

“The only two things I lost are my desire to come and the will to sit down for the rest of the afternoon.”

Harry laughed a little rather. He was now fully convinced that Draco was perfectly and not at all upset about his spanking; not seriously anyway.

“I see, the punishment achieved its goal so. Come on, you sexy thing, let’s fix those flaming red buttocks of yours before I start questioning whether you were sorted into the right house.”

“I thought I was your dirty little cock slut?”

Draco chuckled and Harry rolled his eyes.

“Watch it there, don’t get too sassy now or you’ll force me to gag you.”

“Eh, no thank you.”

Draco shuddered and Harry pulled him across the room and through a red door into the luxurious en-suite bathroom.

“Bend over and brace yourself on the sink, my love,” Harry instructed softly.

Draco promptly made a crude joke about his penchant to have him bend over which Harry resolutely ignored.

Instead, he opened one of the bathroom cabinets and searched it for the Healing Cream. He unscrewed the cap and liberally spread the thick ointment all over Draco’s reddened arse but made sure not to be too gentle about it.

“Hey, that hurts,” Draco grumbled.

“Don’t be so sassy all the bloody time then,” Harry countered.

“Then don’t always bloody give me a reason to be.”

Harry response to that was a firm smack to the back of Draco’s bare thigh.

“Ow! What the fuck was that for!”

“For your unbelievable cuteness.”

Harry chuckled, finished applying the ointment, washed his hands and put the lid back onto the jar before putting it away.

Draco turned around to face him and cupping his face, Harry drew him into a passionate kiss that left Draco breathless and wide-eyed.

“One of these days you’re going to make my heart stop with all that possessiveness of yours.”

Harry winked.

“You love it, Draco Malfoy. Now, tell me, where would you like to go for a late lunch? My treat.”

“Fish and chips and a walk along the River Thames.”

Harry smirked.

“Why not Italian? We could snag a comfortable little corner, sit down, order pasta, share a bottle of good wine, your choice, of course, and afterwards coffee and dessert.”

“Fish and chips and a walk along the River Thames,” Draco repeated.

He wriggled out of the space between Harry and the sink but when he attempted to leave the bathroom, Harry grabbed his wrist and pulled him back.

“Ask for permission.”

Draco frowned.

“Permission for what?”

“Permission to leave. Permission to put your clothes on. You’re wearing the collar, you’re mine.”

Draco looked at him and swallowed hard.

“Sir, may I please leave to dress?” he asked quietly.

Harry fixed his eyes on him, regarded him for a full minute, then shook his head.

“No. No, you may not,” he whispered and with that, he pulled Draco out of the bathroom and dragged him over to the bed.

“Brace yourself on the bed, spread your legs,” he growled, pushing Draco into the desired position, and nudging his legs apart as he spoke.

He summoned a phial of lube, expertly caught it with his right hand, undid his belt and jeans and—

“Harry, what—”

“Be quiet and hold still,” Harry snarled.

He pushed his jeans and boxers down and sighed with relief when his second erection of the day bobbed freely. The way Draco had taken his punishment and the way he had sassed and joked about it after had sent Harry’s blood rushing south and unwilling to control himself, he pushed Draco’s buttocks apart and dripped a copious amount of the cool lube onto Draco’s hole, then worked some of it inside his tight channel.

Draco swore under his breath and Harry coated his cock with yet more of the clear liquid. He stroked himself a few times and as he did so, he placed a finger on top of Draco’s hole and circled around it, increasing the pressure with each completed circle.

Draco groaned and twisted his fingers into the bedsheets.

“What did you say earlier, my dirty little cockslut? You love having my cock inside you, isn’t that so?”

Harry growled, his voice low and husky.

“Well, you’re in luck, I happen to want to shove my prick right into that tight little hole of yours. You want to go for a walk and eat your lunch along the river? Let me make sure you feel me with every single step you take.”

Harry’s voice was thick with lust, dripping with need and Draco’s response sent shudder after shudder down his spine and he growled, feeling extremely possessive.

“ _Ngh_ , fuck— Yes, Harry, Sir, yes, yes, yes, please, fuck, take me—”

Draco moaned and Harry lined pressed the head of his cock against Draco’s tight hole. It flexed and fluttered and Harry pushed inside. Draco groaned and his knees buckled but Harry quickly steadied him with a firm squeeze to the hip. He used his other hand to guide his cock further into Draco and slowly pushed all the way into the unbelievably tight heat. He felt Draco clench and contract around him, gave him a moment or two to adjust then pulled back and snapped his hips forward to thrust inside.

Draco mewled, keened, and groaned, both from the utter discomfort of the roughness of the act and the pleasure he got from Harry claiming him.

“Take me, Sir, I’m yours— Fuck me good and fuck me hard—”

He begged shamelessly and Harry squeezed his hips hard and set a punishingly fast pace. If Draco wanted him to take him, if he wanted him to fuck him good and hard, well, Harry wasn’t about to deny him that pleasure because that was exactly what he wanted to do to Draco.

Draco groaned and gasped and his knees buckled in response to every single one of Harry’s thrusts. His knees rested against the edge of the mattress, against which they kept bumping, and he had curled his fingers tightly into the satin bedsheets. His arms refused to support him and falling forward he braced himself on his forearms instead.

It gave Harry an even better angle to fuck him and fuck him he did. His thrusts were hard and possessive, claiming. The pace was anything but gentle and the passion and need that drove him unquenchable.

“ _Do. Not. Come._ ”

He forced the words out of his throat and past his lips, his voice hoarse and Draco shuddered beneath him.

He shuddered and trembled and Harry delighted in it.

“Yes, Sir.”

He cried out when Harry hit his prostate, repeatedly.

“You are mine, you belong to me, say it.”

“I’m yours, I belong to you.”

“ _Ngh_ , yes, again, tell me again.”

“I’m yours, Sir, I belong to you.”

The words washed over him and Harry groaned.

Draco kept chanting them as though they had suddenly become his new mantra and Harry found himself gripping Draco’s hips so hard, he was sure he was going to leave bruises behind.

He thrust harder and faster still and Draco kept chanting, kept telling him he was his and that he belonged to him.

Those words, repeatedly uttered as Draco floated somewhere close to delirious, were Harry’s undoing and he felt his orgasm break loose before he had even registered that had started to build up.

He thrust a few more times, then buried his cock deep inside Draco’s tight channel and came on a guttural groan of “you’re mine, Draco Malfoy, you’re my little prince.”

Feeling just a little dizzy and dazed, Harry pushed Draco onto the bed, slipping out of him as he did so. Draco winced but fell forward and Harry crawled after him and wrapping him into his arms, he pressed a feeble kiss to Draco’s lips.

“Fuck, Harry Potter, you are the hottest, most possessive man on the entire planet.”

Draco sighed and Harry chuckled breathlessly.

“I love you too,” he whispered, then rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. He felt Draco snuggle against his side and wrapped one tired arm limply around him.

“Do you need a bit of aftercare?”

Draco whispered and Harry snorted at the irony of Draco's words.

They both laughed softly and a few minutes later, Harry rolled back onto his side and took Draco’s face into his hands.

“Be good today, my little prince, and I will give you as many orgasms as you want tomorrow. As many as you can take.”

“ _Ngh_ , Harry—”

Draco groaned and momentarily went cross-eyed.

He blinked, stared right at Harry, and licked his lips.

“This may sound insane but— I mean— I know you only just punished me for not being able to do it but I want, I— Let me try again, please, Harry, please— Let’s—Let’s start over, Sir. An—another two weeks,” he whispered.

Harry’s breath caught in his throat. He leant in, kissed Draco softly, then slowly pulled back and stared at him with slight disbelieve and a whole lot of awe.

“Serious?” he asked.

“Serious,” Draco nodded.

“Same conditions as before?”

“Same conditions as before. No wanking, no touching without permission. You own my orgasms; you decide whether I get to come or not.”

“Fuck, Draco, give me a moment, I may need to fuck you again before we can get lunch.”

“My arse belongs to you, Sir,” Draco whispered and when he took the liberty to kiss him, Harry didn’t begrudge him the little bit of control.

They kissed for several minutes, then lay in each other’s arms on the bed and Harry tried to work out when exactly he had become so damn lucky as to deserve someone as perfect as Draco.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's submissive tune is ["Dominated Love Slave"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SbyEN414mxM) by Green Day from their album "Kerplunk".


	43. Communication Is The Key

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dearest Reader,
> 
> I've not got a lot to say before I let you loose on this chapter, except I really just want to thank you for your continued support and all the love you have given and continue to give this story. It's, without a doubt, the biggest thing I've ever written and I feel it was worth every tear, every drop of sweat and every single sleepless night I invested in it.
> 
> Read carefully, the chapter contains hints to future developments. Small hints but hints they are all the same.
> 
> I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Selly x

* * *

“Did you enjoy yourself?”

Harry asked as they left _Rules_ , London’s oldest restaurant, in Covent Garden.

They slowly headed down Maiden Lane, then turned onto Bedford Street with no set destination in mind.

Autumn had well and truly turned into winter. It was cold and wet outside but the persistent heavy rain of the day had finally stopped and the air smelled fresh and cool.

Despite the low temperatures, it was a wonderful evening for an unplanned walk through a city that was gradually starting to settle in for the night but that wouldn’t ever be truly asleep.

The sky was dark and the city’s lights reflected on the wet pavement, giving it a strangely magical and romantic vibe.

Draco turned his head, smiled softly, and slipped his hand into Harry’s, then nodded.

“I sure did, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, I’m glad you had a good time.”

Harry squeezed Draco’s hand, holding it firmly in his own. Caleb had organised another munch, this time an early dinner, with a theme especially for couples in D/s relationships. Harry had initially been worried that Draco would find it difficult or be hesitant to chat to a bunch of strangers but had been pleasantly surprised to find that he needn’t have been concerned at all.

After stealing his dessert, Draco had spent nearly all his time mingling happily instead of sticking to his side, refusing to meet new people.

“Caleb picked that restaurant on purpose, didn’t he? Because of the name— _Rules_ … You know, for a Muggle he’s quite the sly bastard.”

Draco chuckled.

He casually swung their linked hands back and forth and Harry decided that Draco’s carefree, laid-back disposition was quite the turn-on.

Then again, nearly everything about Draco was arousing in some way or another. Not all of it was sexually arousing but there were always elements of that in everything he did or said. It made for truly fun times, amazing conversations and brilliant quality time spent together and away from the outside world.

“He’s extremely sly.”

Harry laughed. He squeezed Draco’s hand a little tighter, then relaxed his firm grip a little, then squeezed Draco’s hand one more time.

“Then again, rules _are_ important.”

“Yes, you would say that.”

“Oh? I sense that you want to disagree with me.”

Draco shrugged.

“Some rules are rather difficult to adhere to. Besides, I remember, at Hogwarts, you were quite partial to disregarding the rules; I would even go as far as saying that you had a proper fondness for going against what the people around you told to do or not to do. You always got away with it too; it was truly infuriating.”

“Hm, I was a hot-headed teenager trying to understand why some madman I’d never met before was so intent on killing me. As for you, however, I think you seem to manage just fine, my love,” Harry said with a smile, disregarding Draco’s underhanded dig at his rebellious disposition during their years at Hogwarts.

“I do and I don’t. Some days are easier than others,” Draco said.

There was a hint of sombreness in his voice and a troubled expression on his face.

It tugged at Harry’s heartstrings and as they passed a Starbucks, and although that chain of coffee shops wasn’t ordinarily his first choice when it came to good coffee, Harry, figuratively speaking, grabbed the dragon by the talons. A random coffee shop, one that was open late, was exactly what he and Draco both needed this moment and it was also perfectly suitable for what he had in mind.

Cutting their stroll through Covent Garden short, Harry stopped, approached the entrance and opening the door, he pulled Draco inside with him.

“Isn’t it a bit late for coffee?” Draco asked with a deep frown etching itself across his forehead.

Harry wanted to reach out and smooth the creases.

“They have tea,” he replied instead.

He headed over to the coffee bar and since he hadn’t let go of Draco’s hand, Draco had no choice but to follow. There was only one person in front of them in the queue and as he was in the process of handing over the exact change to pay for his beverage, the barista behind the counter turned her attention to them.

“What would you like to drink, gentlemen?” she asked with a friendly and welcoming smile.

“Two cups of Earl Grey, please.”

“Certainly, which size?”

“The middle one there,” Harry pointed at the Grande cup on display and momentarily letting go of Draco’s hand, he fumbled with the leather wallet in the back pocket of his trousers.

“Sure. Would you like anything else, Sir?”

“A chocolate muffin. Could you warm it up please?”

Draco chuckled beside him and Harry turned his head to give him a sideways glance. He raised a curious eyebrow at Draco and smiled.

“You’re going to make me fat.”

“Who says the chocolate muffin is for you?”

Harry quite deliberately teased him, then winked.

“Besides, if you do get fat, we’ll just tie you to a treadmill and make you run it off again.”

Behind the counter the barista smirked and sensing Draco’s urge to throw a stinging hex her way, Harry quickly shooed him towards the drinks’ pickup.

“Go wait there for me.”

Once Draco grudgingly, and not without a half-hearted glare, trotted off, Harry turned his attention back to the girl behind the counter.

“Can you give me the biggest chocolate muffin you have?”

“Absolutely,” she said. “And if I may be so bold, you two are very cute together.”

Harry laughed her compliment off, though inside his heart his chest swelled to twice its current size.

“Shush, he’s allergic to that word. There aren’t enough chocolate muffins in the world to fix the grumpy mood he’ll be in if he hears what you just said.”

“Mum’s the word,” the barista nodded with a smile. “May I have your name, please?”

“Harry.”

Fishing a ten-pound note out of his wallet, Harry he handed it over to her.

“Great, here’s your change, your tea will be ready in just a minute.”

“Brilliant, where can we get milk and sugar?”

“It’s all just over by the pickup.”

“Thanks.”

Harry smiled and walking over to Draco, he wrapped his arm around his waist and squeezed his hip gently.

“She said you’re cute,” he whispered.

Draco promptly rewarded him with a massive frown that could have just as well been a glare but when he opened his mouth to protest, Harry shook his head.

“Shush, I happen to agree, you are very cute and very sexy and hot and you’re also mine and I’ll be eternally grateful that you are because I love you.”

Draco let out an audible breath, something close to a sigh but the small gleam in his eyes told an entirely different story; one that was not synonymous to the words that came out of his mouth. Thankfully, Harry knew Draco well enough to be able to tell the difference.

“Buttering me up won’t get you anywhere, Potter.”

“Your drinks and your muffin, Sirs.”

Another barista pushed a tray with two mugs of steaming hot black tea and a plate with a very large chocolate muffin towards them. Adding a splash of milk to his tea and a bit of brown sugar to Draco’s, Harry motioned for him to pick up the tray and follow him. Draco scowled but obeyed for which Harry rewarded him with a kiss on the cheek that made Draco blush and the barista smile.

Harry found them a quiet corner by the window, far away from all the other patrons; not that there were many this late in the evening.

Draco placed the tray down on the table and immediately occupied the seat right in the corner.

Harry sat down next to him and taking Draco’s hand he placed it between both his hands.

“I thought we were going home,” Draco mumbled.

He picked a chocolate chip off the top of the muffin, pushed it between his lips and chewed slowly, then idly toyed with the string attached to the teabag that floated in his mug.

“We were but unexpected little change of plans. Coffee shops seem to be our thing, I thought we could be spontaneous and enjoy a little bit of quality time together, just the two of us,” Harry said softly

He regarded Draco for a moment or two, trying to read him and gauge what had caused the sudden change in his mood. He’d been carefree all evening, laughing and chatting to various people but now that they were alone, he appeared oppressively solemn, almost dour even. It was too big a change for Harry to ignore it.

Everything about Draco’s demeanour told him that something was weighing on his mind and Harry wanted to find out what it was before it festered and became something Draco wouldn’t be able to deal with, or worse, something they both wouldn’t be able to deal with. It was best to deal with things immediately and when they were still small matters rather than ignoring them until they’d manifested into an actual problem.

“Draco, will you please look at me?”

Clearly surprised by the soft-spoken request, Draco turned his head and when their eyes met, Harry wanted nothing more than to lean in and kiss whatever was bugging Draco away. Whatever it was, no matter how small or big, he simply wanted to make it go away. He wanted Draco to be happy and carefree not sombre and serious. He, however, resisted the temptation and circling his right thumb over the back of Draco’s hand instead, he reached for his mug of tea and blew on it before taking a few careful sips.

“I saw you spent a lot of time talking to Stefan and Elyse, did you have a good time with them?” he asked gently, prodding for information, and hoping that he was heading into the right direction.

Draco nodded.

“Elyse is fun.”

He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes.

To lighten the mood, Harry chuckled softly.

“She’s rather bratty too.”

“Yeah, she did mention that. She said it gets her in trouble all the time, her Domme sounds vicious.”

“Julia absolutely is vicious. Julia is Elyse’s Domme, they’ve been in a relationship for a couple of years. Honestly, she reminds me a little of Ginny.”

Draco frowned.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Absolutely. In fact, now that you mentioned it, I should introduce the two of them, I have a feeling they’d be best friends.”

Draco rolled his eyes and picked another chocolate chip off the top of the muffin, then returned to toying with the teabag and staring out of the window.

He looked perturbed and Harry didn’t like it one bit.

He’d appeared so happy when they’d left the restaurant and the knowledge that it had perhaps all just been an act to appease him bothered Harry.

It had been a week since he’d punished Draco for his underhanded Slytherin tactics and his sly attempt at taking control and they’d talked about it extensively in the afternoon while enjoying fish and chips and a very long stroll along the river, Draco had asked for. Despite having previously discussed the topic of punishments at length, they’d talked about it again since Harry wanted to be sure that Draco was perfectly okay with what had happened between them in the playroom. He’d also reiterated the rules of their little power exchange and stressed the importance of Draco’s safeword, remind him that he was free to use it whenever he felt like it and that it would never get him in trouble.

Still, whatever was bothering Draco now, the fact that Harry had taken a riding crop to his arse the previous weekend to punish him for his transgression wasn’t to blame for his mood.

“Draco.”

Harry kept his voice low, gentle, and loving. He moved to rub slow circles over the inside of Draco’s wrist, letting his fingertip connect with the pulse point and applying mild pressure, he drew Draco’s attention to the comforting touch.

“Do you know what’s even more important than rules?”

“I’m sure you’ll tell me in just a moment,” Draco mumbled.

He gave a noncommittal shrug and lifting his teabag out of the mug, he sipped on the hot beverage and let out a soft sigh. Harry ignored the vexed feeling in the pit of his stomach and took a sip of his own tea instead.

“Communication, Draco. It really is quite important, in fact, it’s the key to any functioning relationship.”

“I’m sure it is.”

Closing his eyes and pursing his lips, Harry took a moment to compose himself.

There was absolutely no point in getting angry; it wouldn’t get him anywhere and Draco wouldn’t appreciate it. It was also bound to make Draco pull away completely and that was the last thing Harry wanted.

“Are you having a hard time with our little arrangement? Because if you’re struggling, I’d like to know about it.”

Draco rather abruptly, though without venom, set his mug down and turned his head.

He sighed and his eyes answered Harry’s question before his mouth could.

“It isn’t easy. Like I said before some days are easier than others.”

“What about today? Is today one of those days that’s easier or harder?”

Harry probed, gently and without the least bit of hurry and while Draco picked several chocolate chips off his muffin and put them in his mouth, he waited patiently and until Draco was ready to talk. Eventually, having now picked all the chocolate chips off his muffin, Draco he broke off a large chunk and ate it, then, after he finished chewing, he finally answered Harry’s question.

“It’s fine when I’m at work, I can distract myself, even when you tease—”

“Do you want me to stop?”

Draco shook his head.

“No, I like it.”

He flushed a little and Harry smiled.

“Pretty,” he whispered.

Draco flushed some more and blinked.

“Stop it,” he mumbled.

Harry chuckled.

“I can’t help it; you are pretty. Tell me, my love, what about this morning?”

Draco sighed.

“That was hard, really hard.”

“Because I teased you?”

Draco nodded.

“And then you didn’t finish the job. I mean I’m kind of used to it at this stage, you teasing and then not letting me have the cake, but it doesn’t make it any easier, you know.”

Harry shuffled a little closer and placing his chin on Draco’s shoulder, he wrapped an arm around him, squeezed his hip, and pulled him closer.

“But just imagine what it’ll feel like when I do finish. All that frustration, all the teasing, all that arousal, it’ll be extra special, it’ll be intense.”

Draco grumbled but didn’t pull away from his embrace. Harry considered that a small victory. Draco wasn’t the kind of person who allowed anyone to touch him when he didn’t explicitly want someone touching him.

“You’re making today hard again.”

Harry chuckled softly, pleased when it sent a small shudder through Draco.

“Am I making today hard or am I making you hard? Because I truly love the latter, there’s nothing hotter than seeing you hard and aroused and—”

“Dobby,” Draco said firmly, cutting Harry off.

“Message received,” Harry said.

Respecting Draco’s request for him to stop teasing, he pulled away and brought a little bit of distance between them both. He drank a bit of his tea and people-watched for a few minutes, giving Draco a moment to cool down and digest.

“You didn’t have to stop hugging me, you know, I like it when you do that and that’s not why I, you know—”

Draco broke the silence that had settled between them.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to use my safe—”

“Draco—” Harry said firmly.

“Look at me!”

He waited for Draco to turn his head before he continued.

“ _Never ever_ apologise for using your safeword. This is your prerogative and I will never hold it against you. Anytime, anyplace. You hold the reins, remember that. If you want me to stop whatever I’m doing, all you have to do is use your safeword.”

“When you fuck with my mind the way you do, which is glorious every single time, it’s kind of hard to remember that I’m in charge. You’re so in control, so calm and collected, always and I feel stupid now.”

Draco sighed.

Harry shook his head.

“Don’t; don’t you ever feel stupid about using your safeword. You didn’t want me to tease you and I fully respect that. I’m not in the least bit upset or offended. I will never be upset or offended, this I can promise you and I have no problem repeating that promise. I’ll say it as many times as you need me to. And I know it’s difficult to wrap your head around the fact that you have the right to stop this but that’s how it is. I will only ever go as far as you allow me to, it doesn’t work any other way, Draco.”

Draco frowned and reaching out, Harry ran this thumb over the creases in on his forehead.

“Stop it, my love,” he whispered. “You are so brave, so strong, and I respect you so much. I love everything you give me and you know I’ll never do anything you don’t want me to, I swear. I will never push you past what I know you can take.”

“You do like to push my boundaries,” Draco mumbled.

Harry smiled.

“Only if I’m sure you can take it, remember that and remember it well.”

“Can you hug me again, please? That’s not why I used my safeword. I like it when you’re wrapped around me, it makes me feel safe and comforted.”

“Of course.”

Harry slipped his arm around Draco’s waist and rested his chin on his shoulder.

“There, that better, my love?”

“Loads, thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me for a hug, my love, hugs and kisses are a given, you can have as many of those as you need, always.”

“I want to; to thank you I mean.”

Harry chuckled.

“Well, aren’t you all sweet and polite. I love you, Draco Malfoy, you melt my fierce dominant heart.”

“Love you too,” Draco whispered, then slowly turned his head.

Harry pulled away a little and as they locked eyes, he felt his heart skip a beat. The intensity in Draco’s silvery-grey eyes, sent a pleasant jolt of energy and excitement down his spine and unable to stop himself, he leant in and kissed Draco.

When he pulled away, Draco looked at him with a somewhat dazed expression. He laughed softly.

“I’m calling off my safeword. Also, we’re going to piss off everyone around us.”

“I don’t care, if I want to hug and kiss my boyfriend in public, I bloody well will hug and kiss my boyfriend in public. If anyone has a problem with that, they can either leave or I’ll Obliviate them.”

“Obliviating random Muggles is against the law, Director Potter, as Head of the Auror Department you should be well aware of that.”

“It may have slipped my mind. It’s rather hard to think straight when the sexiest man to ever walk the streets of London is distracting you. Are you going to charge me, Prosecutor Malfoy?” Harry whispered seductively and smirked when Draco shuddered.

“Yes, though not for Obliviating Muggles but for lewd and lascivious conduct towards your boyfriend.”

“Oh?”

Harry raised an eyebrow and chuckled.

“I wasn’t aware he’d filed a complaint.”

“Not yet, but he’s planning to.”

“Is he now? Do you think he might accept a bribe? Good solicitors are so hard to find these days, and I’d hate to trouble myself with a long and arduous court case.”

“I have it on good authority that he could be talked into accepting a bribe, though it would depend entirely on the type of bribe,” Draco said with a perfectly straight face.

“What kind of bribe do you think would be acceptable? Money?”

“No, he has more than enough of that. Try sexual favours.”

Harry laughed softly.

“What sorts of sexual favours? Does he have any kinks I could exploit?”

“You could try tying him up, maybe a little spanking. He’s got a thing for that sort of stuff.”

“What about making him wear a skirt and fucking him while he wears it, then making him come so hard he won’t remember his own name or why he wanted to sue me in the first place?”

Harry asked rather nonchalantly and smirked when Draco, who had been about to take a sip from his tea, spluttered, coughed, and blushed crimson.

“Harry!” he said with a sense of complete indignation.

“What?” Harry asked innocently.

He pulled back a little and lifting his tea mug to his lips, he looked at Draco over the rim.

“A skirt means easy access, my love, no pesky zippers and trouser legs or underwear,” he muttered, then drank his tea and suppressed the urge to laugh.

Draco’s face was a picture, one he wanted to savour forever. He looked thoroughly embarrassed, gobsmacked and, much to Harry’s delight, just a little turned on.

“Do you— Is that— Do you fantasise about me in a skirt?”

Draco asked after taking a moment to recover and stuffing another piece of chocolate muffin into his mouth.

“I have before, yes.”

Harry answered the question truthfully and without the least bit of shame or embarrassment. Draco flushed anew and Harry quickly set his mug down and placed his hand on top of Draco’s.

“Listen, my love, just because I fantasise about something doesn't mean I’m going to make you do it. You know I’ll never make you do—”

“Anything I don’t want to, yeah, I know,” Draco cut in.

He lowered his gaze and several minutes of silence passed between them before he looked up again. His cheeks were pink and he looked all sorts of uncomfortable. Harry had a hard time suppressing the urge to tease him further, maybe mention knee-high socks or high heels, but he forced himself to behave.

“Sometimes I really am afraid to ask you what else you fantasise about,” Draco admitted and his cheeks turned crimson again.

Harry squeezed his hand, supportively.

“But I’m also oddly turned on which I’m not sure I know how to handle.”

“Does my little prince want to wear a pretty little skirt for me?”

Harry smiled and Draco’s cheeks turned such a deep shade of red that the butterflies in Harry’s stomach did several hundred summersaults. Draco coughed and averted his eyes rather quickly.

“I noticed you didn’t say no,” Harry said. “Tell you what, you think about that idea for a while and let me know what conclusion you come to.”

“I’m not sure I could do it. Wear a skirt, I mean.”

“You can always try.”

“Just how much do you want that fantasy to come true?”

Harry winked.

“I’ll tell you if it ever does. You’ll appreciate it more then.”

“Merlin, you’re fucking devious, Potter.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“In the name of communication and all that, can we change the subject for a while?” Draco asked sheepishly.

Harry nodded.

“Of course. What would you like to talk about? Half-eaten chocolate muffins? Shall we watch who’s passing by outside and gossip? Do you want to talk about work?”

“Stefan,” Draco whispered.

“Ah,” Harry said. “I think I know where this conversation is going. He told you that I trained him, well, mentored, didn’t he?”

“I don’t think he meant to say it, though it’s not really a secret, I guess. It slipped out and he spent about five minutes apologising until Elyse told him to shut up.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“Did you fuck him?”

Harry smiled.

“I see, we’re not beating around the bush. Well then, let me offer you the same courtesy. Yes, I fucked him, Draco. It was all part of an agreement, him wanting to experience an extended period of power exchange and everything that came with it.”

“Was he your boyfriend?”

Harry shook his head instantly.

“No. I never had any romantic feelings for him. We met through Pandora’s Box, the BDSM club and dungeon I told you about. He was looking for a Dom to guide him, show him the ropes, perhaps even train and mentor him. He’d never had a Dom before, at least not for an extended period and he wanted to learn and experience. In the beginning, we spent many weeks just talking. We met at the club or his place and sometimes I’d take him to a munch to meet other people and make connections. I helped him create a foundation, a group of like-minded individuals he considers his friends. I answered all his questions, gave him plenty of reading material and every so often I challenged his submissive side. I gave him a task to complete, made a request, pushed the boundaries a little, opened his mind to new experiences—”

“Like you’re doing with me now?”

Harry nodded.

“Something of the sort. I decided he was worth my time and I wanted the responsibility so when he asked me for a training and mentoring contract, I agreed. During the last month, I offered to find him a Dom and eventually introduced him to Caleb who was looking for a fulltime sub at the time. Have I satisfied your curiosity?”

When Draco didn’t answer him, Harry merely smiled.

“You know, Draco, between a Dom and his sub, when they know each other well and when they’ve had time to acclimatise, there is a thing called silent communication. I can read you like a book, even when you don’t answer my questions.”

Draco rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“Yet you keep telling me I’m not your sub.”

“Do you want to be?”

“Didn’t you just say you can read me like a book? You tell me.”

Harry chuckled.

“Touché, Prosecutor Malfoy, you win this one.”

Instead of simply resting his hand above Draco’s and squeezing it occasionally, Harry took it and massaged it gently, paying special attention to the pressure point between the thumb and index finger.

Draco grimaced.

“That hurts.”

“I know, it’s really relaxing though,” Harry said. “You are my boyfriend and I love you very much, I hope you know that.”

“I—”

“Shush, Draco, let me finish. With you, I found something truly precious. Considering our less than amicable relationship when we were at Hogwarts—”

Draco snorted.

“Less than amicable. That’s one way of putting it, Potter.”

Harry frowned.

“Would you _stop_ interrupting me already!”

“Sorry.”

Draco looked a little sheepish and shaking his head, Harry lifted his hand to his lips and kissed each fingertip.

“You are a gift, in every sense of the way. I promise you when you’re ready to be my sub and when that’s what you truly want, I won’t turn you down.”

“Are you afraid of signing a contract with me?”

The question somewhat surprised Harry, but he answered honestly.

“Yes.”

Harry nodded and he could tell Draco hadn’t expected that answer.

“I’ve always thought of you as fearless,” Draco mumbled. “Guess I was wrong.”

“I’m not fearless, Draco, nobody is. Just because I prefer to exert control doesn’t mean I’ve no fear. I get scared too and I’ll be completely honest with you, the two things that scare me the most is hurting you in a way that is unacceptable either of us and losing you.”

“I trust you not to hurt me. I mean— You know, not to break my heart,” Draco whispered and in a surprise move, he leant closer and they both locked eyes for several long moments.

“I trust you; Harry Potter, I trust you more than I’ve ever trusted anyone in my entire life. I have trusted you since you saved me from that Fiendfyre in the Room of Hidden Things. I put my life in your hands that night and you didn’t disappoint. Post-war, that thought kept me sane through some very dark times, times when I thought I wouldn’t get through the day.”

Harry swallowed past the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat and pulling back a little, he blinked.

“Heavens, you precious man, what have I done to deserve you?”

Draco laughed nervously and Harry noted the unshed tears shining in his eyes.

For a while, they sat in silence, then Draco cleared his throat and resolutely finished off his chocolate muffin.

He washed it down with several sips of tea and smiled shyly.

“You’ll know when you’re ready to take that step,” Harry said quietly.

Draco nodded.

“I know.”

“Good. Are we good? In the name of communication and all, is there anything else you want or need to get off your chest? Anything you want or need to know? Anything at all, Draco, please, don’t hold back.”

Draco shook his head.

“For now, I’ve got it all off my chest, I feel a lot better. I like your brand of mind healing, Harry Potter, you catch the smallest things, you never disappoint, with you I feel safe beyond comparison.”

“Oh, thank Merlin because if you won’t permit me to take you home and make love to you all through the night and until the sun comes up tomorrow morning, I think I’ll explode.”

“Will I have to wear a skirt?”

Draco joked and Harry laughed heartily.

It took him a moment to calm himself and when he did, he leant in and pressed his mouth to Draco’s ear. He whispered a few words and when he pulled back, Draco’s eyes had darkened considerably. They were full of desire and anticipation and when Harry placed his hand on Draco’s knee and squeezed gently, he shuddered and his hands trembled.

“I swear, Harry Potter if you don’t take me home right now, I will do something I will not regret.”

Harry grinned and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Oh? Should I be scared?”

Draco growled.

“No, you should take me home!”

Harry raised his hands in mock surrender. He rose to his feet and pulled Draco up with him.

“All right, all right, no need to get surly with me, your royal highness. Let’s go home,” he said.

“Best suggestion you made all day, Potter.”

“I’ll make a few more just after I tie you to the bedposts.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will leave you with a little bit of further reading on ["This Is Why You Need to Have a Safe Word"](https://www.sheknows.com/love-and-sex/articles/1138864/why-you-need-a-safe-word/) \- do check it out, it's rather informative.


	44. The Kink Letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm honestly not sure how one can feel exhausted after enjoying a three-day weekend (I blame my personal trainer!) but I am tired and absolutely ready for bed, where I'd very much like to stay for a month.
> 
> It's going to be a busy week, I've scheduled a couple of hardcore training sessions with my personal trainer and my birthday is coming up on Thursday (please, no early birthday wishes, I'm allergic to those -- yes, I know I'm a weird one). I will try my very best to find the time to upload chapter 45 sometime during the week, however I'd appreciate it if you could bare with me if it takes me until the end of the week...just for this one week. There's only so many things I can do all at once.
> 
> Alright, now, before this turns into an epic rant, do enjoy this chapter and the usual warnings should most definitely be adhered to.

* * *

Harry fiddled with the elegant cream-coloured envelope in his hand and taking a deep breath, he forced himself to calm down.  
  
_You’re being irrational_ , he reprimanded himself.

When Draco had handed him the letter late yesterday afternoon, he pleaded with him not to read it right away and although the urge to let Draco squirm in a chair while he perched on the edge of his desk and read Draco’s rather intimate letter to him had been difficult to resist, Harry respected his wishes.

He’d had every intention to read the letter after work but then one of his Senior Aurors called him out into the field on a case and by the time he returned home it had been three a.m. in the morning. He’d been in no fit state to give the letter the attention it deserved and so he decided to leave the letter until today. Going to bed without reading the letter had been a smart move since his brain and been too foggy to make sense of anything, let alone give Draco’s words the attention it deserved.

A few days ago, he’d asked Draco to write him a letter. He had wanted him to take some time to himself to think about their little control game and his feelings about it. Harry was rather interested in Draco’s thoughts on the experience; he wanted to know what he liked and disliked.

Draco being Draco hadn’t at all been keen on the idea of composing a _kink letter_ , as he’d called it, but Harry insisted. Draco had grumbled about it for a good hour or two but eventually, he’d relented and now here it was, the elusive letter.

Harry pushed his thoughts aside, glanced at his wristwatch and picked up his coffee cup. He leant back against the kitchen counter, took a few sips, then set the cup down on the worktop beside him and traced Draco’s beautifully slanted handwriting with the tip of his index finger.  
  


> _For Sir_

  
A small shudder of excitement shot down his spine and he smiled.

 _My little prince, you precious, precious gem_ , he mused and resolutely turning the envelope over, he broke the seal and pulled several sheets of cream-coloured writing paper out. He unfolded them and began to read:  
  


> _Harry,_
> 
> _This is my fifth attempt to compose this letter and I’ll be honest; I’m rapidly losing my patience with this task. I have the intense, nearly uncontrollable desire to hex you. My wand hand is itching badly. It makes writing this letter a bit of a chore, even more so than it already is._
> 
> _My first three attempts were so completely sappy that they gave me heart palpitations and not the good kind I get when I’m around you so I Incendio’ed them._ (I swear, Potter, if you ever bring this up, I will— Well, if you have a death wish, go ahead, and try to bring this up in a conversation. I promise you, there are no restraints strong enough to hold me down, if you— You know what, I have a better idea. **Dobby** , this entire paragraph, and quite possibly this entire letter, it’s all strictly Dobby, do you read me, Director Potter?)
> 
> _Anyway, I’m sure you’re dying to know why attempt number four didn’t make it either. I ripped that one up halfway through. To my complete shame_ (and again I can’t believe I’m admitting this to you) _I devoted an entire page and a half to telling you how I feel about you making love to me. I sounded like a gushing teenage girl talking about the loss of her virginity and it made me feel nauseous. I’m sure my face was a sickly shade of green at some point or other. I suspect it was just before I shredded the pages and started all other again._ (I still feel the intense desire to curse you, Potter! How do you manage to bring out the best and the worst in me? Wait, no, don’t answer that. Let’s just pretend it was a rhetorical question.)

  
Harry paused for a moment and chuckled. Draco had a wonderful way with words and for a moment he found himself transported back to earlier this year. Just after rekindling their acquaintanceship, and allowing it to slowly bloom into a friendship and eventually into a relationship, they’d exchanged daily memos and it had been then that Harry had first started to develop a strong fondness for Draco’s written word. It was why he’d given him this task in the first place. He’d wanted something tangible to hold on to, something Draco had invested time and effort in, something he had struggled with.

 _Trust you to find a unique way of making a letter strictly confidential_ , Harry shook his head and still amused, he continued reading.  
  


> _All right then, I think I’ve stalled long enough. Well, that’s not true. I think I haven’t stalled nearly long enough but if I don’t start organising my thoughts, I’ll start waxing poetic about the colour of your eyes or some other part of your body I find irresistible_ (Yes, Potter, there are a few!) _._
> 
> _When you asked me to write this letter, you asked for one thing and one thing only — complete honesty. This, Harry, I can do. I can’t promise you’ll like everything you’ll read in the next few paragraphs but when you ask for the truth, you must be prepared to read something— How shall I put it? Less desirable?_
> 
> _Three weeks ago, when you first enticed me to play your little game, I was intrigued and convinced it would be an easy feat to accomplish. Turns out I was wrong, very wrong._ (Yes, I can admit that!) _This was anything but easy, though I think you already know that much. When we have sex_ (play?) _you like it when I ask you for permission to come, you like it when I’m desperate enough to beg for my orgasm and shockingly_ (!!!) _I have discovered that I like asking for permission, I like begging for it. It makes the actual orgasm so much more intense and I feel this unbelievable rush…and intense… This part is hard to put into words, I’m sorry._
> 
> _Maybe you can help?_
> 
> _You like denying me my orgasm, you like edging me, you like keeping me hanging. I should have thought about that when you made that utterly devious suggestion of yours. Alas, I did not, and I paid for it with very sore and very red buttocks. I honestly thought surrendering control to you would be as easy as casting_ Wingardium Leviosa _or flying a broom. It was not. Chasing and catching a Snitch is easier than giving it all up for you. There’s something fundamentally different between surrendering control to you while we’re in the bedroom or your playroom and surrendering control for two…three weeks._
> 
> _I naively thought you wanted complete control but that would still let me have an orgasm whenever we had sex. I thought you’d make me beg for it, make me work for it, make me wait for it. I never thought you’d deny me my orgasm completely, never thought you’d tease me_ (You were outrageous!) _the way you did. I repeatedly watched and felt and heard you orgasm, yet you wouldn’t allow me the same pleasure. I cannot even begin to explain how that made me feel, but after some consideration, I’ve come to the following conclusion:_
> 
> **_ I never felt so powerless. _ **
> 
> _That’s not quite true. I have felt powerless before and I think you know what I’m talking about. This, what you did, what you do, it made/makes me feel powerless on a different level. I can’t explain it, I just can’t. The first few days I hated it and you. You really pushed me to the brink of insanity. I wanted to touch myself so badly, I wanted to wank so badly. There were a few times when I thought, fuck this, I’m giving up— Because I wanted to give up, I wanted it desperately._
> 
> _But— I wanted to please you more._
> 
> _Give me a moment while I let that revelation sink in._
> 
> _Yes, I wanted to please you. I wanted to please you in ways I’ve never wanted to please anyone. Suddenly it was my only thought, it was all that mattered._
> 
> _When you take control, when you— When I submit, it’s all I want. I want to please you, I want—_
> 
> _The need to please you, to follow your commands, it’s so strong, it frightens me. It truly does. It terrifies me. So please, go easy on me, Harry. It feels like you have no idea how much I am giving up for you, how helpless, how powerless I feel when I give it all to you, yet a persistent little voice in my head tells me you do know._

  
“Believe me, my little prince, I know,” Harry whispered into the silence of the kitchen and taking a moment to compose himself, he stopped reading and reached for his coffee. He lifted his cup to his lips but didn’t drink. Instead, he stared at the words. There it was, in black and white. Draco wanted to please him. It terrified him, but he wanted to please.

 _You couldn’t have chosen better words to tell me how much you enjoy what we do_ , Harry thought. He didn’t set his coffee cup down but continued to read the last few paragraphs:  
  


> _You, Harry Potter, absolutely are a Slytherin, down to your very core. I doubt many things but of this I am sure. How you managed to trick the Sorting Hat remains a mystery but since I’ve no plans to let you go any time soon— and I’m nothing if not determined, I promise you I will find out the truth. I didn’t become a prosecutor for no reason._
> 
> _My nerves feel frayed and I am a bit shaky so I’m going to abandon my need to remain composed and concise and I’m going to say this in the plainest words possible:_
> 
> _These last few months have been a complete headfuck._
> 
> _Writing this letter is a headfuck._
> 
> _Letting you control me is a headfuck._
> 
> _Wanting to kneel at your feet is a headfuck._
> 
> _Getting a kick out of you tying me up, spanking me, mixing pain with pleasure, controlling my orgasms, controlling me; it’s all a headfuck._
> 
> _You are a headfuck._
> 
> _But the biggest headfuck of all is that I want all of it. I crave it, I desire it and I love it._
> 
> _By the sweet Circe and mighty Merlin and the great Salazar Slytherin—_
> 
> _What have you done to me, Potter?_
> 
> _I want more. I need more. I want to be yours. I need you to be in charge. Please._
> 
> _Love,_
> 
> _Your Little Prince Draco_

  
Exhaling slowly, Harry put his coffee cup down on the worktop, carefully folded the letter and placed back inside the envelope. He braced himself on the kitchen counter and closing his eyes, he took several deep breaths. He hadn’t expected or been prepared for, quite such a candid confession. Draco had laid it all bare and checking his wristwatch again, Harry decided that he had enough time to prepare a little present for Draco.

Letter in hand, he left the kitchen and headed for his study where he sat down behind his desk and reaching for several sheets of parchment and a quill, he began to compose a response. He made every effort to be frank, heartfelt, and playful.

Draco had poured his heart out to him, had shared his innermost thoughts with him, it was only fair that he made the same effort.

It took him a solid hour to finish the letter and by the time he signed it, his writing hand was cramping. He flexed it several times, reached for an envelope and folding the parchments twice, he placed them inside the cream cover and sealed it.

He left it on top of his desk, and stretching a little, he made his way upstairs and into his bedroom’s en-suite bathroom where he stripped off all his clothes, stepped into the shower and turning the water on, he waited for it to turn hot, then moved to stand under the cascading stream of water and closed his eyes.

He allowed the water to rain over him for several minutes, then washed and conditioned his hair, lathered himself in soap and when his thoughts strayed to Draco and what he had planned for him for the afternoon, he found himself having to take care of a mildly uncomfortable predicament. He grabbed the tube of lube from the middle shelf of the shower rack and leaning back against the tiles, he squeezed a generous amount of the clear gel into the palm of his right hand, wrapped it around his erection and stroked himself.

He let out a low moan and wished that it was Draco who was on his knees in front of him with his arms bound behind his back and his mouth wrapped around his cock.

Not interested in drawing things out, Harry brought himself off with a few precise strokes. He came on a low groan and spurted his come all over his hand. A few leisurely jerks extended his orgasm for a few seconds and feeling just a little tired, he took a moment to regulate his laboured breathing, then stepped back under the jets of hot water to wash the lube off his cock and the come off his hand.

He turned the water temperature down and the sudden difference made him shiver but it also revitalised him.

Feeling refreshed, he switched the water off, stepped out of the shower and reaching for a towel, he began to rub himself dry. He used a second towel for his hair and though it made little difference, he still haphazardly styled it a little and retrieving his wand from the pile of clothing by the door, he levitated his clothes and the towels into the wash basket, then headed into his bedroom where he dressed in a pair of black boxer briefs and a pair of loose-fitting blue jeans. He selected a black shirt, slipped into it but didn’t bother buttoning it up.

Instead, he made his way upstairs and into his playroom.

He waved his wand to raise the room temperature slightly, then dimmed the lights and turned on some light music, then looked around the room and basked in the ambience. It had a calm and relaxed feel to it and pleased with the result of his efforts, he headed into the bathroom and perused his vast collection of bath oils.

After a few minutes of deliberation, he chose a mix of Ylang-Ylang, which was a wonderful aphrodisiac, Bergamot, for its sweet citrusy scent and uplifting properties, and Red Mandarin, which helped to elevate stress.

Sitting on the edge of the large bathtub, Harry leant over to turn the water on, adjusted the temperature and added a generous amount of the bath oils, then charmed the water taps to turn themselves off once the tub was three-quarters full and the water temperature to remain constant. He returned to the playroom and heading over to one of the black chiffoniers, Harry pulled the third drawer from the top open and after a few minutes of indecision, he chose a simple dark-green braided leather collar.

It was the kind of collar a female submissive might choose to wear during the day since it resembled a choker necklace rather than a traditional collar, but Harry thought that the colour and the collar’s subtlety were perfect for Draco.

Up until now, Draco had only ever worn the collar he had given him when they’d done their first ever scene and Harry wanted to change things up a little.

Today, he just wanted to give Draco a little reminder of his place but didn’t want him to wear anything too constricting.

With a smile and convinced that he had made the right choice, Harry placed the collar inside his left jeans pocket and left the playroom. He arrived downstairs just as the doorbell rang and heading for the front door, he took a deep breath and opened the door.

He casually leant against the wall and when Draco gave him an appreciative once-over and licked his lips, he smirked.

“Come in, my little prince.”

“Is it a habit of yours to answer the door half-dressed?” Draco asked, stepping over the threshold.

“Only on special occasions, my little prince.”

“What sort of special occasions would those be?”

“Close the front door, take off your shoes, put your coat up and come find me in the living room and I might just tell you.”

Harry smiled, pleased to note the visible shudder that made Draco shuffle on the spot. His eyes darkened instantly. He took his gloves off and as he reached for the doorknob, Harry pushed himself away from the wall and wordlessly disappeared into the living room.

He sat down on the sofa and relaxing back into the cushions, he absentmindedly drew several knotting patterns onto the armrest.

A few minutes later, Draco appeared in the living room and Harry decided that he looked absolutely stunning in his midnight blue trousers and a light-grey turtleneck sweater.

 _It’s almost a shame I’m going to make you strip naked_ , Harry mused and held his hand out for Draco to take.

Draco’s hand trembled a little and squeezing it reassuringly, Harry rose to his feet and pulled him into a hug.

“Are you nervous, my little prince?”

Draco sighed, nodded and Harry hugged him a little tighter.

“Don’t be, my little prince, I promise you, you’ve got absolutely nothing to worry about,” he whispered, then pulled away just enough to be able to see Draco’s face.

He cupped it gently, stroked his thumb over Draco’s cheek and smiled warmly.

“You trust me, don’t you, my little prince?”

“Yes,” Draco said.

His voice quivered a little as he spoke.

“Well, that’s good. I promise I’ll make you feel so good today. It’ll absolutely be worth all the wait.”

“What have you got planned?”

“ _Tsk_ , that would be telling, my little prince. You’ll just have to be patient; you’ll find out soon enough. First, though, tell me, did you eat lunch at half past twelve as I told you to?”

“Yes.”

Harry clicked his tongue.

“Yes, _who_ , my little prince?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good boy.”

Harry praised Draco and leaning in he pressed his lips against Draco’s but instead of initiating a kiss, he just lingered. He wanted to test Draco’s resolve to resist the temptation to kiss him first. Draco passed the test with flying colours and Harry rewarded him with a sweet, gentle kiss.

“You’re being so good for me already, my little prince. I’m so pleased with you. We’re going to have so much fun today. But first, I think, a relaxing bath is in order. You’ll feel so good. Would you like that?”

“Yes, Sir, yes, please,” Draco mumbled.

Harry pulled back a little more.

“Good, good. There’s just one little problem.”

“What problem, Sir?”

“You’re a little overdressed.”

Harry smirked.

Draco inhaled sharply and swallowed hard.

“Do you want me to take off my clothes, Sir?”

“Yes, I’d like that very much. I want to sit on the sofa and watch you take off all your clothes. I want you to take them off slowly, very slowly, I want to enjoy it. Will you do that for me, my little prince? It would please me ever so much.”

“Yes, Sir, yes, I will do that for you.”

Draco’s response was nothing more than a shaky whisper and pulling him into another hug, Harry held him close, providing him with reassurance and comfort.

“You’re doing so well already, my little prince, so, so well,” he whispered.

He ran his fingers through Draco’s hair and pulled a soft whimper from his lips.

Harry drew back a little and kissed Draco. It was an unhurried and gentle kiss. It was teasing and exploring. He allowed Draco to connect with him, swallowed all his little moans and whimpers and ran his hand up and down Draco’s back, keeping him calm, safe and in the zone.

When he pulled away, Draco had a dazed, dreamy look in his eyes and with a soft smile, Harry kissed the tip of his nose.

“Ready, my little prince?”

Draco nodded and stepping away, Harry seated himself on the sofa. He watched as Draco hesitated for a few moments but eventually lowered his head and began to slowly take his clothes off. He started with his jumper, followed with the long-sleeved shirt he wore underneath and continued with his trousers, boxer briefs and socks.

Once he was completely naked, he looked somewhat unsure and letting his arms dangle at his sides, he looked at Harry.

“Sir, do you want me to kneel?”

Harry shook his head.

“No. I want you to come here. Come to me, my little prince, come here and sit astride my lap,” he said softly and with a small nod, Draco complied.

“Good boy, you’re my good little prince, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Yes, you are. Now, put your hands behind your back. Can you do that for me?”

Draco nodded and obediently moved his hands behind his back. His chest was rising and falling rapidly and Harry splayed his hand out over it, feeling his heart thump wildly underneath.

“Relax, my little prince. You’re being so good. I’m so pleased with you, you’re doing so well, you’re being such a good boy for me,” Harry whispered.

Draco blushed furiously.

“Tell me, my sweet little prince, do you like it when I praise you like that? Do you like it when I tell you what a good boy you are and how you please me?”

Draco made a strange sort of sound. He parted his lips slightly, then bit his trembling bottom lip. A fresh wave of delicious red coloured his cheeks and he murmured his answer.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Yes, Sir, what?” Harry pushed.

Draco blushed a little more. He averted his eyes and stared down at Harry’s lap.

“ _Tsk_ , look at me.”

A full minute passed before Draco lifted his head and reaching out, Harry cupped his right cheek and caressed it gently.

“I like it when you tell me I’m a good boy, Sir. I like it very much,” Draco said so softly that it was barely louder than a faint sigh.

But it was good enough for Harry, who smiled encouragingly.

“Well, then I’m going to have to tell you often and always. C’mere now, let me kiss you, my little prince.”

Draco keened and leant in. Harry captured his lips in a slow-burning kiss. He deepened it steadily and by the time his tongue was caressing Draco’s, he had flipped him onto his back and pinned him to the cushions beneath him with his own body weight.

He gently caressed every inch of naked skin, he could reach, then pulled away from the kiss and locked eyes with Draco. His eyes were swirling orbs of silvery grey that varied in depth and colour. A million and one emotions flickered through them and he looked so vulnerable and so scared, yet so full of anticipation, desire, love, and trust that Harry’s chest swelled so much he thought his heart might burst out of his chest.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I— I love you too,” Draco breathed.

Harry felt the shudder that went through him and pressed a kiss to Draco’s lips.

“You’re a gift, my little prince, your submission to me is a priceless gift and I promise you I’ll take such good care of you, not only today but for as long as you let me,” he whispered more assurances, then pulled back a little and clambering to his feet, he gently pulled Draco up with him.

Draco swayed a little and it was obvious that he felt a bit weak at the knees. Harry steadied him, reached behind his back, and slipped his hand into Draco’s, lacing their fingers together as he did so. He squeezed gently.

“I want you to follow me upstairs but I’d like you to keep your head down and your eyes on the floor until I tell you that you can look at me. Can you do that for me, my little prince?”

“Ye— yes, Sir.”

“Mmm, good, let’s go.”

Tugging on Draco’s hand, Harry pulled him out of the room and up the stairs. They unhurriedly ascended to the fourth floor and Harry led Draco to the playroom. He pushed the door open, stepped over the threshold and Draco followed him. The door closed gently and waving his hand at it, Harry locked it.

“Tell me, my little prince, what’s your safeword?”

“Dobby, Sir.”

Draco replied promptly and Harry watched as he jerked his head up but caught himself just in time and lowered it again.

“Very good. You heard the door lock, yes?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“It will open if you use your safeword or I unlock it, whichever happens first. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir, I understand.”

“Good, such a good boy. Smart, sexy, and submissive, you are a dream come true, my little prince. Now, come.”

Harry tugged on Draco’s hand and led him into the large en-suite bathroom and over to the bathtub. It was now three-quarters full and the taps had turned themselves off.

“You can now look at me, my little prince.”

Harry prompted gently and as Draco shyly lifted his head, he motioned at the tub.

“Climb in, my love. The water temperature should be just perfect.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Draco nodded and stepping into the tub, he slowly and gracefully sank into the warm water and let out a content little sigh.

Harry smiled.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Harry shrugged his shirt off and hanging it on a hook by the door, he moved to sit on the edge of the bathtub. He dipped his hand into the water and nodded. Yes, the temperature was just perfect. It was hot, yet not too hot. Comfortably warm was a better description.

“Are you— Aren’t you going to join me, Harry?” Draco asked quietly.

Harry shook his head.

“I had a shower before you got here. This is your treat.”

“Oh.”

“Be a good boy for me today and I’ll remember to reward you with a long bath one of these days. You can lie in my arms and I’ll hold you close, clean you and wash your hair. Would you like that, my little prince? Would you like me to take care of you like that? Sit in the bath, hold you, maybe even make sweet love to you?”

“ _Ngh_ , yes, Sir, yes, please.”

Harry smiled. He crouched down on the floor outside the tub.

“Then that’s what we will do now. Now, sit properly, sweet one, you don’t have to kneel in the tub, just relax, stretch your legs out, lean back, enjoy,” he said, enticing Draco to move into a more comfortable position.

Clearly compelled to follow his instructions, Draco unfolded his legs from underneath him and stretched them out. He sighed with relief, slowly leant back, and submerged himself in the water.

“So good,” he whispered.

Harry watched his eyes flutter closed.

 _I’ll make it even better in just a minute_ , Harry thought and casting a cushioning charm on the floor, he kneeled beside the massive bathtub and toyed with the warm water.

He let his fingers ghost along the outside of Draco’s thigh, squeezed his hipbone, and rubbed the flat of his hand over Draco’s taut stomach.

He toyed with Draco’s hand, teasing it but never actually letting him grasp it properly.

He traced the faint outline of the Dark Mark on the side of Draco’s left forearm, tickled the inside of Draco’s elbow, then trailed his fingers up his arm, along his chest and up and down the side of his neck.

Draco let out a slow, appreciative moan and licked his lips.

“Do you like that, my little prince?”

“Yes, Sir,” Draco breathed.

Harry trailed his fingers along Draco’s chest, teased his nipples and drew a soft sigh from the depths of Draco’s throat. He grazed his fingertips over the darkened nubs, scratching the sensitive flesh with his fingernail and Draco’s breathing hitched as he inhaled and quivered when he exhaled.

“Please,” Draco murmured.

“Please, what, my little prince? And please who?”

Draco’s eyes fluttered open and he turned his head sideways. He looked dazed and aroused and quite content.

“Touch me, Sir, please.”

Harry chuckled softly.

“I am touching you, my love.”

Draco sighed.

“Please, just don’t stop, please.”

Instead of answering him, Harry continued to tease every inch of Draco’s body he could reach. Draco was hard, his erection firm and proud but Harry paid no heed to it. He touched Draco everywhere, from massaging his scalp as he washed his hair to tickling his soles as he teased his feet but he never touched his cock, not once, not even accidentally.

By the time twenty minutes had passed, Draco was a quivering whimpering mess. He made little keening noises in the back of his throat and he had parted his lips slightly to allow him to inhale through his mouth rather than his nose. His flushed cheeks were a deep shade of pink, bordering on red and his eyelids fluttered as though he couldn’t quite decide whether to keep them closed or force himself to open them and then keep them open. His hands and arms were floating in the water and ever so often he flexed his fingers as if he was looking for something to hold on to. Harry offered his hand a few times and each time he did, Draco squeezed firmly, holding on tight.

“Spread your legs for me, my little prince,” Harry whispered on one such occasion and Draco’s eyes flew open.

He stared at him with such intensity that Harry felt his own cock stir in his jeans but firmly resisted the urge to rearrange himself. Instead, shuffled a little on the cushioning charm and pulling his hand out of Draco’s grasp, he rested it on top of his left thigh.

He didn’t force Draco’s legs apart and he didn’t repeat himself.

He didn’t have to.

Draco willingly let his legs fall apart and caressing the inside of his thighs, Harry alternated between using his fingertips and his fingernails. He pulled moan after moan and quiver after quiver out of Draco.

“Spread your legs a little further, my love, I want to touch your hole.”

Harry kept his voice soft and low as he issued the order and Draco let out a desperate moan as he complied.

“Such a needy little thing, I’ve not even touched your hole yet and you already can’t think of anything else.”

As he spoke, Harry slipped his hand between Draco’s legs, bypassed his cock and balls and pushing his fingers in-between Draco’s arse cheeks, he pressed against his perineum, expertly seeking out the spot that would allow him to massage Draco’s prostate from the outside.

He then moved his other hand, to the back of Draco’s neck to steady his head, just in case he started thrashing in the water or threw his head back. He did not want Draco giving himself a concussion a mere few minutes into their play. On second thought, he also cast a cushioning charm and teased that sweet little pleasure spot halfway between Draco’s balls and his hole.

Draco moaned, bit his bottom lip, and wantonly spread his legs further.

“Do you like this, my little prince? Do you like me touching you like this, making you feel so good?”

“Yes, Sir, yes, please, oh please, don’t stop,” Draco whispered breathlessly.

“Well, can you be good and look at me?”

Draco turned his head a little and opening his eyes, he sucked in a shaky breath.

“There you are beautiful, keep looking at me. I want to see your pretty eyes while I take you apart.”

“ _Ngh_ , Harry, please,” Draco breathed.

“Shush, just enjoy, and keep those gorgeous eyes open.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Such a good boy. You’re my good little prince, aren’t you? Tell me, say the words. I’m Harry’s good little prince.”

Draco mewled and for a moment he struggled to breathe.

“I’m Harry’s good little prince,” he whispered.

“Yes, you are. You’re my good little prince. You’re so good for me, lying there with your legs spread apart, letting me pleasure you, letting me make you feel good. Tell me, my love, do you want me to touch your hole, do you want my fingers inside you?”

“Please, please, please,” Draco breathed.

Instead of obliging, Harry put more pressure on that sweet pleasure spot and Draco bucked his hips. His legs flailed and Harry advised him to bend them at the knees and plant them on the bottom of the bathtub. He also tightened his hold on the back of Draco’s neck and listened as a string of half-incoherent pleas fell from Draco’s lips.

When he finally pressed his fingertip to Draco’s hole, a shockingly long moan fell from Draco’s lips and reverberated around the room.

The tight ring of muscle flexed and fluttered underneath the gentle pleasure he exerted. Draco bucked his hips, trying to impale himself on his finger but Harry merely withdrew the finger and waited for Draco to still his movements before he continued teasing.

“Please, Sir, please, please.”

Draco panted, trying to get more air into his lungs. He looked at Harry with glazed eyes and parted lips.

“Please what? Please, who?”

“Please, please, touch me.”

“Touch you where?” Harry asked.

He deliberately rested his hand against the inside of Draco’s thigh and asked him if he wanted him to touch him there.

Draco howled in anguish and shook his head.

Harry chuckled and proceeded to place his hand on almost every part of Draco’s body, except of course his cock.

Each time the question was the same and each time Draco’s answer was a desperate plea for Harry to touch his hole, to put his finger back _there_.

After an excruciatingly long five minutes of teasing, Harry obliged and reaching for a small silicon phial of lube, he uncorked it and pressed the opening against Draco’s tight hole. It slipped past the muscle with ease and squeezing the body of the silicon phial, Harry gently filled Draco with some sensation-heightening lube. He put the half-empty phial away, pressed his index finger against Draco’s hole and slipped inside, just past his second knuckle.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Draco whispered.

“Such a well-mannered little prince.”

Harry chuckled and slipping his finger in and out of Draco’s lube-slickened hole, he fucked him slowly, agonisingly slowly. Draco moaned and pleaded and begged and Harry ignored him. He pressed his finger to Draco’s prostate and delighted in the loud, positively filthy howl that escaped Draco’s lips.

“So desperate,” Harry chided. “Look at me, my little prince, keep those eyes open and look at me or I will stop.”

“No, no, no, don’t stop.”

Draco shook his head and Harry watched him as forced his eyes open and stared at him, trying to focus, trying to concentrate long enough to remember that he didn’t have permission to close his eyes for longer than a flutter.

“Tell me, my little prince, do you want to come?” Harry asked and as he did so, he pressed his index finger against Draco’s prostate and massaged the small bundle of nerves with expert precision and practised ease.

While his hand was steady, the same description did not apply Draco, who was a quivering thrashing wreck. He alternated between breathless moans and desperate pleas.

Harry alternated between massaging Draco’s prostate and applying pressure to it and he worked tirelessly to pleasure Draco who was finding it harder and harder to keep his eyes open.

“Merlin, look at you, my little prince, you’re so beautiful, so stunningly beautiful.”

“Harry please,” Draco begged.

“Please, what, my love?”

“Please let me come, please, please.”

Harry smiled.

“Oh, my sweet little prince, you have my permission to come as many times as you want, as many times as you can take. Did I not mention that before we started? How very devious of me. Come whenever you like, my love,” he said and applied a little more pressure to Draco’s prostate.

Several seconds later, Draco tensed, his toes curled in the water, his legs trembled and his entire body shook as his orgasm hit him with such force that he struggled to breathe, struggled to do anything but succumb to it.

“Beautiful, just beautiful, I love watching you come for me, my little prince.”

Harry whispered yet more words of praise and rubbed Draco’s prostate to extend his orgasm for a few intense seconds, then he slowly withdrew his finger and reaching for a soft yellow sponge, he soaked it in the warm water and dripped it over Draco’s shaking legs and his heaving chest. He gently cleaned Draco’s face, allowing the water to soothe his heated cheeks and when he was sure that Draco had recovered enough, he helped him to climb out the tub. Since Draco’s legs refused to obey him properly, it proved to be somewhat of a challenge.

Harry managed and sitting him down on the edge of the tub, he summoned a soft Egyptian cotton towel and dried Draco off. He made damn sure to avoid Draco’s cock which was still hard and twitching with excitement. Instead, he dried Draco’s hair, then gently cupped his chin, tilted his head upwards and kissed him on the lips.

When Draco was completely dry, Harry helped him to his feet and led him into the playroom and over to the bed.

“Will you lie on the bed for me, my little prince? On your back, with your legs spread and your arms raised above your head.”

Draco nodded and mutely climbed up onto the bed. He lay on his back, spread his legs and looking at Harry, he slowly raised his arms over his head, resting them on the satin-covered pillow above.

“Gorgeous, so gorgeous, you are stunning, my little prince,” Harry whispered.

He moved onto the bed and as he knelt beside Draco’s head, he reached for a pair of black leather cuffs, he had attached to the headboard earlier today and showed them to Draco.

“I’m going to tie your arms above your head, sweet one, okay?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Draco nodded in agreement and Harry took his left hand and slipped a cuff around his wrist. He fastened the clasp, taking special care to ensure it was neither too tight or too loose. He did the same with Draco’s right hand, then instructed him to tug a little and flex his fingers.

“OK?” he asked.

“OK, Sir.”

“Good, but if your fingers feel numb, you must tell me, are we clear?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good boy, you’re my good little prince.”

Draco keened softly and Harry ran his fingers through his damp hair.

“Pretty boy,” he murmured and stroked Draco’s cheek.

He leant down and captured Draco’s lips in a maddeningly slow kiss.

When he pulled away, Draco looked dazed, even more so than before.

“Now, my little prince. I’m going to restrain your ankles too. You’ll be able to move and bend your legs but you just won’t be able to get off the bed. OK?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good.”

Harry nodded approvingly, thoroughly enjoying Draco’s complete submission. He shuffled to the bottom of the bed and restrained first Draco’s right leg, then his left. He made sure that the cuffs weren’t too tight and double-checked by asking Draco to wriggle his toes. He told him to make sure to tell him if he felt any numbness or stiffness. Draco promised that he would and Harry rewarded him with another kiss.

He then procured a blindfold from underneath one of the pillows and dangled it from his index finger, holding it out for Draco to see.

Draco’s sharp intake of breath did not escape his notice and he rested his hand on his thigh, squeezing gently and providing physical reassurance.

“It’s okay if you don’t want it, my little prince. I promise you, if it gets too much, you can tell me and I’ll remove it.”

“I— I want it, I can do it,” Draco whispered.

Harry smiled.

“My brave little prince, I’ll make you feel so good, my love, I promise you.”

Harry praised Draco a little more and shuffling back to crouching beside Draco’s head, he kissed him, then expertly fastened the blindfold over Draco’s eyes, rendering him temporarily blind.

Draco breathed faster and Harry squeezed his hand reassuringly.

“I’m right here, my little prince, I won’t leave you bound and blinded, you’re safe, just breathe, relax.”

Harry gave Draco few moments to familiarise himself with the darkness that now surrounded him and when his iron-grip loosened, he knew that Draco was ready to take the next step.

“All right, my little prince, I’m going to make you feel so good, just lie back and enjoy, you won’t have to do a thing, just be your beautiful, gorgeous self, it’ll please me so much if you do this for me,” he whispered.

After taking a moment to enjoy the vision that was a bound and blindfolded Draco Malfoy, Harry, with a wandless, wordless incantation, produced a harmless variation of the Bluebell Flames. They centred in the palm of his hand with vibrant bright blue tendrils winding themselves around his fingertips and when he touched his hand to Draco’s shin, he shivered.

“How does this feel, my little prince?”

“Cold,” Draco breathed and scrunched up his face.

“Want me to stop?” Harry asked.

He gently trailed his hand up and down the outer side of Draco’s leg.

“No, Sir, just— just give me a moment to— to get used to it.”

Harry stilled his hand but gently tapped his fingers against Draco’s leg, teasing him with the spell’s cool tendrils.

A few moments later, Draco gave a shaky nod and told him that he was OK.

Smiling, Harry moved his hand in a figure eight motion and the tendrils of cool blue fire shot from his hands and ghosted over Draco’s body, travelling from his legs to his stomach to his toes to his fingers to his nipples to his arms to his fingers and the side of his cheek. Draco shivered and shuddered and let out little whimpers and cries of pleasure.

Drawing another figure eight motion, Harry withdrew the tendrils and mumbling an incantation, he changed the colour of the flames from bright blue to bright orange.

This time his hand was warm to the touch and as he set out to explore and tease Draco’s naked and bound body, he summoned a phial of lube, uncorked it with one hand and levitating it in the air, he tipped it over and poured a generous amount onto his index and middle finger.

“ _Ngh_ , Harry, what— what are you doing?” Draco asked, arching into the teasing touch of the warm bright orange tendrils, and flinching away when Harry switched the colour of the flames to a vibrant blue.

Harry chuckled softly.

“Just a little sensation play. Does it feel good my little prince?”

“So strange, cold and hot and— _ah fuck_!”

Harry pressed his lube-coated index finger to Draco’s hole and Draco trailed off.

“How about that?” he teased, sliding his finger in and out of Draco with perfect ease.

“Please, oh please, don’t stop, please, Sir,” Draco pleaded breathlessly and with another incantation, Harry changed the flames back to bright orange and Draco arched into the warm touch and pushed down onto his finger, clearly wanting much more than the little bit of friction he was currently getting.

“Ah, be a good little prince now, none of that thrashing. We haven’t even gotten to the good part yet,” Harry chided.

He pressed his finger against Draco’s prostate but didn’t move it, didn’t rub against the quivering bundle of nerves, just rested it there, letting Draco feel his finger, letting him know what pleasure it could bring him if he was good and obeyed.

Draco groaned and with great difficulty, he managed to lie still. Harry switched the sensations back to cold but this time the colour of the tendrils was a deep blue.

Bright blue felt like a cool summer breeze while deep blue felt like the melting water of an ice cube dripping down from above.

“Oh _fuck_!”

Draco gasped in shook. His entire body shook and he pulled away from the cold, then arched right into it. As he did, he effectively stimulated his own prostate and a low whiny moan escaped him.

“Feels good, doesn’t it, my little prince?”

Harry smiled even though Draco couldn’t see him.

“Yes, Sir, yes, so good, please, don’t stop,” Draco said breathlessly.

“Want to try hot, sweet one?” Harry asked.

Bright orange was warm, about the same temperature as the water in the bathtub had been, perhaps a tiny bit warmer, red on the other hand felt hot. It wasn’t quite as intense as hot wax dripping down onto your skin but depending on a submissive’s pain threshold it came close.

“I— I—” Draco stammered.

“Try it, my little prince, be brave. If you can’t take it, I’ll stop immediately, I promise,” Harry encouraged. “It doesn’t burn, it won’t leave any marks, you have my word. It’s just a hot little sting, a bit like a stinging hex really, just with the added heat.”

“OK, but go slow, please.”

“I will, my sweet little prince. You’re doing so well already. I’m so proud of you.”

Harry withdrew the cold tendrils from where they’d been crawling and flitting all over Draco’s body and waving his hand in the air, he transformed the flame in the palm of his hand back to orange.

Another little incantation turned the tendrils a darker shade of orange, one that bordered on red but wasn’t quite as intense.

He rubbed his finger over Draco’s prostate, and teasing him, Harry drew a few moans from Draco, making sure to help him relax properly. He wanted him to be at ease and aroused and preferably quite close to an orgasm.

Once he had achieved that goal, he gently touched his index finger to Draco’s thigh, stinging him with a tendril of hotness.

Draco flinched, grimaced, and sucked in a sharp breath.

“OK?” Harry asked.

“ _Ngh_ ,” Draco breathed. “It hurts.”

“Can you take it?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted honestly.

“I think you can, my little prince, you’ve done so well already. You loved warm and cool and you took cold so well. Try again, one more time, okay?”

“Is it a stinging hex? It really does feel like one.”

“No, my love, I promise it’s not.”

“Can you do cold first, please, Sir?”

“But of course,” Harry said and one wordless incantation later deep-blue tendrils teasingly wound around Draco’s thigh, moved to his hip, then teased over his stomach and chest. Draco arched away from the freezing cold and Harry rubbed his prostate, flooding him with wave after wave of intense pleasure.

Then, just when he least expected it, Harry adjusted the temperature and allowed a tiny red tendril to lick the inside of Draco’s thigh.

“Ah, fuck, fuck, _fuck_.”

Draco howled and arched away from the stinging searing pain.

Harry massaged his prostate and teased Draco with the cold deep-blue tendrils.

Every so often and completely unexpectedly he let a tiny red tendril lick over Draco’s thigh, his hip or his stomach and each time Draco let out a string of colourful curse words and arched his back away from the touch.

Harry remained relentless and by the time, Draco’s second orgasm flooded through him, a fine sheen of sweat had gathered on his body and he was a shaking shuddering mess of loose lips. He struggled to breathe and banishing the magical flames from his hand, Harry removed the blindfold.

Draco blinked several times and it took him a moment until he was able to focus on Harry’s face.

“Harry,” he breathed.

Harry smiled.

“Did you enjoy that, my little prince?”

“ _Ngh_ , that was so strange,” Draco whispered.

“Oh, but you were such a good boy for me. So brave and so good,” Harry praised. He ran his fingers through Draco’s damp hair and kissed him.

“My brave little prince, you’re being such a good boy for me today. You please me so much.”

Draco shuddered, his lips trembled and his eyelids fluttered. He blushed and inhaled deeply and Harry pressed his finger back inside Draco’s hole and found his prostate.

“My good little prince, I’m going to make you feel so good. You’re being so good for me, trying all these new things and enjoying them too, I’m so pleased, so, so pleased.”

Harry continued to lather Draco with praise, thoroughly enjoying the effects it had on Draco.

He rubbed his still sensitive prostate, massaged it with intense strokes and light teasing pressure and several minutes of persistent rubbing later, he pulled an earth-shattering orgasm from Draco.

Instead of stopping to give Draco the chance to recover, he continued to pleasure him and basked in the sound of his incessant moans, the way his back arched off the bed and his toes curled and his fingers flexed.

Draco tugged on his restraints, pleaded, and begged and panted and moaned. Harry teased another two orgasms out of him, effectively turning him into a pile of soft, pliable gibberish-mumbling goo.

“Look at you, my little prince, you’re so fucking gorgeous, I can’t get enough of making you come. _Ngh_ , I want you so much, I’ve got to have you, I need to be inside you.”

“Please, please, please, please, please.”

An endless string of pleas fell from Draco’s lips and blinking, he tried to look up at Harry, who could tell that he was unable to focus on anything. He undid his jeans, pulled them and his boxers down to his midthighs and grabbing Draco’s legs, he pushed them up and pressed them to his chest, exposing Draco’s well-lubed hole. He slicked his cock with plenty of lube and sank into the tight velvety heat.

Draco groaned.

Harry knew the burn was intense but he didn’t stop.

Instead, he sank deeper and deeper into Draco, filling him with his hard cock and letting the burn spread from his arse into his groin and out into the rest of his body.

He let it consume Draco, let it be the only thing Draco could focus on.

“Harry, Harry, please, please,” Draco begged and grabbing his hand, Harry squeezed.

“What do you need, my little prince?” he asked.

“Fuck me, please, please Sir, fuck me,” Draco panted.

Harry smiled.

“With pleasure, my little prince. Though only under one condition. You are not to come while I am inside you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” Draco whimpered and pulling back, Harry snapped his hips forward.

He set an unforgivingly brutal rhythm, pounding into Draco with the desperate need to make him his, to claim him, to own him. He turned his head slightly, grabbed Draco’s bound ankle firmly and sank his teeth into the pale skin just above the leather cuff. Harry bit hard and Draco screamed. He sucked even harder and Draco whimpered and moaned.

When he pulled away, a shiny dark-purple bruise marked Draco’s pale skin and Harry licked it and kissed it. Overcome with the desire to continue to mark him, he left several more marks all over Draco’s body, biting and sucking until he produced more than ten shiny deep-purple love bites.

Draco panted and sobbed and flexed his fingers. Unable to move due to his restraints and Harry’s weight above him, all he could do was take each thrust. He shuddered and trembled and begged and pleaded and tears streamed from his eyes as Harry fucked him hard.

It was intense and hot and Harry was so close. His ears were buzzing and his head spun and he felt his orgasm built in his groin, felt it explode and flow through him with an astonishing fierceness.

“Look at me, my little prince, look at me,” Harry panted breathlessly and forced his own eyes open.

He stared down at Draco and lost himself in his beautiful expressive eyes. They were almost black now, with merely a hint of silvery grey in them and that was absolutely the last straw for Harry. Unable to hold it in, he buried himself deep inside Draco, arched his back and came on a long guttural groan, spurting rope after rope of come and filling Draco with his seed.

He slumped on top of Draco, panted, and shuddered as the last throes of his climax surged through him.

Draco’s body was warm and pliant beneath his own and for a moment all Harry wanted was to fall asleep like this with Draco bound to the bed and his half-hard cock still inside him, keeping all that come where it belonged.

However, he was acutely aware of Draco’s inability to breathe properly and bracing himself on his hands and arms, he slowly pushed himself up and pulled out of Draco, who grunted in mild disapproval.

Kneeling on the bed, Harry pulled his boxers and jeans up and tucked himself back in. He pulled up the zipper and closed the button and it was then that he remembered the collar, he had chosen for Draco earlier. He chuckled softly and helping Draco to bend his shaking legs at the knees and plant them on the bed, he looked apologetic when Draco frowned a little.

“What’s so funny, Sir?”

“My own forgetfulness,” Harry replied and pulling the green braided leather collar out of his jeans pocket, he showed it to Draco.

“You submitted so wonderfully, it completely slipped my mind to give you this,” he said. “I picked it out for you today.”

“It’s pretty, Sir,” Draco whispered.

Harry noted the longing gaze in his eyes as he stared at the collar.

“Hmm, yes, I think so too, it’s perfect for a beautiful little prince like you.”

“Please, Sir, please may I wear it for you?” Draco asked and promptly blushed crimson-red.

“It would please me ever so much if you did, my sweet little prince,” Harry smiled and shuffling a little, he expertly placed the collar around Draco’s neck, fastened the clasp and gently twisted it so that the clasp was at the back.

“Beautiful,” he murmured.

He didn’t give Draco the chance to say or ask anything but kissed him. It was a deep and possessive kiss and after claiming Draco’s lips, he claimed his mouth by plunging his tongue inside.

Draco moaned into the kiss and Harry greedily swallowed each one of his little moans. He kissed him until they were both breathless, then pulled back and caressed Draco’s cheek.

“Tell me, my little prince, are you mine?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Say it.”

“I’m yours, Sir.”

“ _Ngh_ , again.”

“I’m yours, Sir.”

“Do you like wearing my collar, my little prince?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Say it.”

“I like wearing your collar, Sir.”

Draco obediently whispered the words and Harry kissed him again, then claimed his mouth in yet another rough kiss. He reached up to squeeze Draco’s hand, then grazed his nails over the inside of Draco’s right forearm and swallowed the groan, he had forced from the depths of his chest. He ghosted his fingers over Draco’s biceps, over his armpits and down his chest. Harry squeezed his right nipple between his thumb and forefinger, twisted it and broke away from the kiss to watch Draco’s face as he whimpered.

“Do you like a bit of pain with your pleasure these days, my sweet little prince?” he teased.

Draco gave a breathless nod.

Harry twisted the nipple repeatedly, flicked his nail over it, then leant down to suck it into his mouth. He soothed it with the tip of his tongue, then bit into it and relished in the yelp that fell from Draco’s mouth as he arched his back.

Harry let his hand slip lower and resting it on Draco’s quivering stomach, he looked at him.

“We should get you some nipple clamps sometime, my love,” he whispered and Draco’s eyes snapped open.

“Nipple clamps, Sir?” he asked.

Harry nodded.

“Oh yes, they’ll squeeze your nipples, make them all sensitive for when I want to play with them. I dare say with a bit of practice, I could make you wear them for a couple of hours, then rub my fingers over those delicate little nubs and you’d come screaming my name, without me ever having touched your cock.”

Draco whimpered and bypassing his cock, Harry slipped his hand in-between Draco’s legs and pressed a finger to his hole, rubbing over the quivering muscle.

“Ready for some more, my little prince?”

“Sir?”

“Did you think I was done with you, my little prince?”

Harry smiled and when Draco opened his mouth, he shushed him and pushed his finger past the now somewhat loose ring of muscle, penetrating Draco again.

“I want to keep taking you apart, I want you to come for me.”

Draco groaned and his entire body shuddered. Harry pressed against his prostate, rubbed over it and Draco’s mouth fell opened and he twisted his head back. His eyes fell closed and he struggled to breathe.

“No, open those pretty eyes, let me watch you come undone as I make you come over and over, my sweet little prince.”

“ _Ngh_ , please, Sir, please.”

“Please what?”

Instead of answering, Draco moaned and his thighs trembled visibly. Harry increased the pressure against his prostate, circled the sensitive tissue and took his sweet time working Draco into a frenzy.

Draco’s eyes fluttered closed and he tugged on his wrist restraints. It took several minutes but he pushed Draco over the edge and the sounds he made as he climaxed were pure music to Harry’s ears, who continued to massage Draco’s prostate. Still raw from his latest orgasm, Draco tensed, arched his back off the bed and came again.

“Harry—” he gasped.

“Beautiful, just beautiful, look at me, my little prince,” Harry whispered.

Draco’s eyes snapped open and he panted hard.

“One more, can you give me one more?”

“Harry—”

“Come for me, my little prince, be good for me now, or don’t you want to please me anymore?”

“Please you—” Draco puffed and blinked.

Harry increased the pressure against his prostate and Draco gave a silent scream, arched his back again and climaxed.

“Harry—” Draco breathed, “can’t— can’t— can’t—” he babbled.

“Oh, I think you can, my little prince,” Harry said softly and it took less than thirty seconds before Draco came again, his prostate now so sensitive and so overstimulated that the slightest touch, the tiniest bit of pressure sent him over the edge.

“Ngh, Harry— Sir— please, please, please—”

“You want more?” Harry teased and not giving Draco the chance to answer, he made him climax again.

Draco’s entire body shook and shuddered. He moaned and gasped and a stream of tears fell from his eyes.

A fine sheen of sweat covered him, his mouth hung open, his chest was heaving and unable to keep his shaking legs bend at the knees any longer, he let them slip.

A string of small whimpers fell from his lips and slowly withdrawing his finger from inside Draco, Harry allowed him a moment of rest.

“You are beautiful, my little prince, so very beautiful,” Harry whispered and glancing at Draco’s cock, which he had neglected all this time, he tried to gauge how many strokes it would take to make him spill his come all over himself.

 _Less then ten_ , Harry mused and summoning the abandoned phial of lube, he emptied it into his hand and wrapped his fingers around Draco’s cock. It was rock hard and the head was a deep shade of red, almost purple even. He gave Draco’s cock a cursory stroke and bucking right into his hand, Draco screamed.

“Please, please, please, please, please—” he begged incessantly and pressing a kiss to Draco’s hot wet cheek, Harry tasted his salty tears, which had mingled with his sweat.

He trailed kisses along Draco’s jaw and his neck, kissed the collar and then stroking his cock with hard and firm strokes, Harry sank his teeth into the Draco’s neck, biting, sucking, licking, soothing.

Draco’s back left the mattress and he howled. His entire body spasmed over and over, again and again, and two strokes later, he came, spurting thick hot white streaks of come all over Harry’s hand, his own thighs and stomach.

“Harry, Harry, Harry—” he babbled breathlessly and letting go of Draco’s spent cock, Harry gently shushed him and squeezed his hips.

“I’m here, my love, right here, I’ve got you,” he whispered soothingly.

“Harry—”

“Yes, Draco, I’m here, I’m right here.”

Reaching above Draco’s head, Harry unfastened his wrist restraints and examined Draco’s wrists. They were a little red but that was about it.

“Flex your fingers for me, my love,” he whispered and when Draco did, he praised him.

Moving down the bed, Harry attempted to undo Draco’s ankle restraints, but Draco whimpered and reached out for him. Harry took and squeezed his hand and waving his other hand, he vanished the restraints with magic instead.

“I’m here, Draco, I’m right here, open your eyes, my love, look at me, I’m right here, I’m not leaving,” he assured.

Draco blinked and tried to focus but failed. He whined softly and Harry kissed him.

“I’m here, my love,” he mouthed and pulling Draco into his arms, he spooned him and held him tight.

“Shush, sweetheart, shush, all is well, you’re in my arms, I’ve got you. You did so well, you pleased me so many times, you were amazing, simply wonderful. I’m so proud of you, my little prince.”

Harry continued to soothe Draco with whispered sweet nothings. He peppered him with tiny kisses, held his hand and squeezed it ever so often. He subtly cast a mild cleaning charm over Draco and to stop him from shaking, he followed up with a warming charm.

Draco sighed softly in his arms, mumbled something entirely incomprehensible and Harry could tell that he was floating somewhere between orgasm-induced nirvana and post-coital sleep.

“Sleep, my love, rest as much as you need,” Harry whispered and although the bedsheets were sweat-soaked, as well as covered in lube and come, he did not attempt to take Draco anywhere else. There was plenty of time for that later.

He waited until he was sure that Draco was fast asleep, then quietly slipped off the bed and using magic, he cleaned up as best as he could. He made sure to be as quiet as possible and disappearing into the bathroom, he stripped naked, drained the bathtub, and cast a strong Scourgify on it.

Harry banished his clothes and the towel, he’d used to dry Draco after his bath, into the wash basket, then hopped into the shower to clean Draco’s sweat and come off himself. He paid special attention to his cock, ensuring to wash off the lube and any remnants of his own come.

After turning the shower off, he stepped out of the spacious cubicle, reached for a soft white towel, and rubbing himself dry, he pulled the door to the bathroom opened and checked on Draco, finding him still fast asleep on the bed.

Once dry, Harry placed the towel in the wash basket, grabbed a fluffy white bathrobe from the hanger behind the door and slipping into it, he tied the belt at the front. He then filled a small basin with warm water, added some soothing chamomile extract and summoning a soft washcloth, he headed back into the playroom.

As he sat down on the edge of the bed, Draco stirred a little and his eyes fluttered open.

“Harry,” he croaked.

“Shush, I’m just going to clean you up a little,” Harry whispered.

He started with Draco’s face, moved on to his arms, his chest and his back and paid special attention to his arse, his now flaccid cock, and his thighs.

Draco watched him sleepily but didn’t speak a word. He had a somewhat dreamy expression on his face and every time Harry used the cloth to wipe him down, he let out a content little sigh, a soft murmur or something that almost sounded like a kitten’s purr. Harry smiled and once he had finished, he leant down and pressed a gentle kiss to Draco’s lips.

“Harry,” Draco mumbled. “I don’t think I can walk.”

Harry chuckled.

“That’s okay, I’ll carry you to the bedroom in a bit.”

Harry kissed Draco again and getting back to his feet, he gave him an appreciative once-over. The light-red marks on his wrists and ankles would likely be gone by tomorrow but the bruises he’d left behind with his harsh bites and sucks, those would most definitely remain visible for several days and just the thought that Draco would be walking around with his marks all over his body, aroused Harry quite a bit and he felt his cock stir underneath the robe.

“I’ll be right back, my sweet little prince,” Harry whispered.

He walked off to return the washcloth and the small water basin to the bathroom and then threw the used square piece of soft cotton into the wash basket, cleaned the basin, and dried his hands.

When he returned, Draco had fallen asleep again and not bothering to wake him up, he gently eased one arm under Draco’s arms and the other under his knees, then picked him up and as he approached the door to their playroom, he mumbled the incantation to unlock the door. It opened quietly and Harry carried Draco down the corridor to the stairs and down one floor.

Once inside his own bedroom, he spelt the thick winter duvet back, put Draco to bed and casting a light warming charm over him, he covered him with the blanket.

“Harry—” Draco mumbled.

“What is it, my love?”

“Stay with me,” Draco pleaded without ever opening his eyes.

He curled into a tiny ball and Harry smiled.

“Of course, I’ll stay with you, sweetheart,” he whispered and rounding the bed, he climbed in, shuffled underneath the duvet, and pulled Draco into his arms. “I’ll stay with you for as long as you need me to, my little prince.”

“Forever, please,” Draco mumbled and biting his bottom lip, Harry suppressed a chuckle.

“I’d like that very much, Draco.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it's a thing.
> 
> Yes, it works.
> 
> Yes, it feels marvellous.
> 
> Yes, straight guys are squeamish idiots for denying themselves this amazing pleasure. *grin*
> 
> No, you don't have to be gay to enjoy a good prostate orgasm.
> 
> A little bit of extra reading, ["How to Have a Prostate Orgasm: A Guide to Prostate Milking"](https://www.ellaparadis.com/blog/how-to-have-a-prostate-orgasm/), I promise, it's absolutely worth your time and quite informative, even if you're a girl and have no prostate.


	45. Fried Potatoes, Blue Flames & A Fluffy Bathrobe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it is still my birthday (at least in my part of the world) and so I thought I'd practice a bit of paying it forward and post another chapter. It's been a crazy few days and next week should most definitely be even crazier but the end of the semester is in sight. I'm so looking forward to relaxing, chilling and perhaps even trying to sleep in, although considering that I have a cat this might prove to be impossible.
> 
> I should have another chapter for you over the weekend and I'm also dying to get some writing done as I haven't been able to focus (or stay awake long enough) to indulge in that treat.
> 
> Enjoy the chapter, I'm off to bed. I'm officially older... *grin*
> 
> Selly x
> 
> P.S. If you choke on something edible or drinkable while reading the chapter, I'll know you haven't been following our rules.

* * *

>   _My sweet little prince,_
> 
> _Thank you for your honesty, truly._
> 
> _Writing this letter wasn’t easy for you but I appreciate that you persevered and didn’t give up — even if it took five tries to get there (I didn’t laugh and I wouldn’t have even if it had taken ten or a hundred). Your feelings about me, us, and what we do; it all absolutely means the world to me. It gives me a better understanding of where your mind is at and it will help me to make future experiences even better for you, for us._
> 
> _You have such a wonderful way with words, my love. While reading your letter to me, I stood in the kitchen, drinking coffee, and I could picture you right there with me, talking to me, telling me all those things that you, perhaps, still find a bit difficult to put into words but are able to write down._
> 
> _I’d never intended to write you a response but your letter was so honest, sincere, and heartfelt (and funny in your own unique Draco Malfoy way) and I decided you deserve an answer from me. You deserve to hear my thoughts, you deserve to know how I feel about you, about us, about what we do._
> 
> _When I first started to get interested in the lifestyle, back when I was just beginning to learn what Dominance is all about, a very smart man and dear friend told me this:_ True Dominance is not just a role, it’s a way of life. It means holding yourself to a higher standard. In return, you will receive the ultimate gift of your sub’s willing submission.
> 
> _This piece of advice, simple as it was, resonated with me and left a deep impression. It has become somewhat of a mantra; a reminder to keep my affairs in order, to organise my life, to read for pleasure, to plan, to be confident and comfortable in my own skin. It took nearly a year to get there and, believe me, it was a steep learning curve._
> 
> _I stumbled several times, I lost my way, I wanted to give up, I thought this whole Dominance thing wasn’t for me, that I had the desire but wasn’t able to execute it._
> 
> _Then, I witnessed my first scene._
> 
> _I wasn’t an active participant; I just sat on a sofa in a corner and watched the whole thing happen and afterwards I knew with absolute certainty that what I wanted and needed was to be the dominating partner in the relationship. I realised that taking charge of my own life meant someone would eventually trust me enough to willingly submit to me; someone would eventually allow me to dominate their mind, heart, soul, and body._
> 
> _You, my little prince, you have become that person to me. It’s only been a few short months but I am head over heels in love with you and I’m not ashamed to say it. You will, undoubtedly, want to call me a sappy Gryffindork but that’s perfectly all right with me. I love the time we spent together, simply being a couple, being partners. I enjoy waking up next to you in the morning and watching you for a while…or until the itch to touch you and kiss you becomes too great to resist._
> 
> _Your sass has absolutely become my kink. You have become my kink. I love the way we are together. Unconventional, bickering, you being sassy and me getting the upper hand every single time and because you let me. However strange this relationship might seem to others, for us it works._
> 
> _You’ll probably want to hex me for this but I wouldn’t mind hearing you wax poetic about the colour of my eyes because whenever I look at you, I want to do the same. Your eyes; they speak a language of their own. They tell me how you feel, they let me know when you’ve had enough and they tell me when you want more. When you surrender yourself to me, when you submit completely, when you trust me to make you feel good and when you let me take control, your eyes change so much and just watching that change happen, my little prince, it’s a special sort of privilege. It’s a thrill and an honour and I respect you for giving me the precious gift of your submission._
> 
> _You are so right. Our little game, devious as it was of me to suggest such an extended form of abstinence, appeared easy, yet it was everything but. It takes a whole lot of self-control and the strong desire to allow someone else to dominate you to achieve what you achieved, my little prince. It took you some time to get used to it, yet once you did, you showed marvellous restraint — the level you’ve shown me and your devotion to the game; it’s one I’ve not seen before and it’s made me want to tease you more, push you harder and further._
> 
> _Yes, I like edging you, I like to keep you hanging, and I most definitely like denying you. Not because I don’t want you to come, on the contrary, I love watching your orgasm, but because I want to remind you that your submission to me means that you willingly surrender to me and that I get to decide whether you are allowed to fall over the edge or whether you’ll stay right there, hovering, watching me while I fall._
> 
> _You pushed the boundaries further than you should have and you learnt your lesson — I fully expected you to never want to play again, yet you surprised me by asking for a fresh start, one I certainly haven’t made easy on you but by the time you read this letter, all your frustration will be gone. It’ll be the last thing on your mind, that much I can promise you, my sweet little prince._
> 
> _My love, you cannot imagine what it means to me to hear you say that you want to please me, that it matters so much to you whenever we play. It gives me the greatest joy and thrill to hear those words from you. It excites me, it makes my heart flutter and it fills me with the irresistible desire to protect you and to keep you safe for as long as you allow me that privilege._
> 
> _I can promise you that I will never take your submission for granted. I will never expect it, demand it nor force it but whenever you give it — willingly — I will treasure it and I will treat you with the love and tenderness you deserve, my little prince._
> 
> _A headfuck — a very eloquent way of telling me that I’ve gotten under your skin and into your head and that I’ve opened doors you never new existed. Taking this journey with you is an absolute delight._
> 
> _I love watching you fall apart, and I love putting you back together. I want to do it again and often. I want you to know that you can trust me with your desires, with your needs. I will never exploit them, nor will I ever push you beyond your limits. I will push the boundaries, ever so gently, and I will entice you to try new things but they will all be within what you’re comfortable with and it will be up to you to tell me if you want me to push you past that and take you beyond that comfort zone._
> 
> _It will take a while for you to truly realise this, but it’s you who makes the rules, and it will always be you. I just enforce the rules, that’s all I ever do. I understand that it’s nearly impossible to wrap your head around this, but perhaps seeing it written down on a piece of paper and in my own horrid handwriting will make it easier for the message to sink it._
> 
> _You, Draco, are in charge and you will always be in charge. You tell me how much and how far and that’s all that will ever happen. What you call a headfuck is you trying to come to terms with how it is possible to surrender, to relinquish control, yet to be in charge at the same time. It will take you a lot more time before that message sinks in but I will be there every step of the way for as long as you’ll have me._
> 
> _Thank you, my love, for your precious words, for the gift of your submission, for the deep desire to please me, and for being you. You fill my life with joy, you bring me happiness and I treasure every minute we get to spend together._
> 
> _I will give you more and you are mine. I will be in charge and you can trust me._
> 
> _Love  
>  _ _Harry_

* * *

Draco padded into the kitchen, still barefoot and rather disinclined to do anything about it.

Harry stood in front of the stove, facing away from him, and crossing the room, Draco sneaked his arms around his waist and pressed himself up against Harry’s back. He wasn’t cold per se but the warmth that radiated from Harry’s body still felt perfect.

“Evening, sleepyhead, dinner is almost ready,” Harry said. “Did you sleep well?”

Draco hummed in response and pressed his face into Harry’s back, just between his shoulder blades. He inhaled deeply, relished in Harry’s familiar scent, and closed his eyes.

A strong wave of complete contentment and the feeling of safety washed over him.

“I love you,” Draco mumbled.

He didn’t quite understand why but he wanted to cry. He stifled a small sob and blinked furiously, trying to get rid of the sting of salty tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks. The last he wanted was to worry Harry, although apparently, it was too late for that because Harry had sensed that something was off. He wordlessly turned around and engulfed him in a tight embrace. It was as if he could tell that this was exactly what Draco needed and it made it even more difficult to ignore his desire to cry.

 _I’m not even sad, I’m really, really happy_ , Draco thought and frowned, thoroughly put out over the fact that he struggled to control his own emotions. He had always been able to handle them.

Harry pulled back a little, cupped his face gently and Draco absolutely did not want to look at him but it wasn’t like Harry was giving him much of a choice in the matter.

“Feeling a bit emotional?”

Draco wanted to make a snarky remark, wanted to say something sassy, but found himself drawing a blank. His usually sharply critical mind was apparently still asleep. He nodded, then frowned some more.

“It’s quite normal to feel a bit out of sorts after an intense scene, you know? You’ve got nothing to be ashamed about. Dinner and dessert and a few cuddles in front of the television and you’ll be right as rain again, this I promise you.”

Harry stroked his cheek with his thumb and the gentle touch was quite distracting. Draco closed his eyes and focused on the light pressure of Harry’s somewhat calloused thumb against his cheek. The contrast between rough and soft distracted him thoroughly.

A strange feeling of melancholy had settled over him like a heavy grey cloud when he’d woken up to find himself alone in Harry’s bed. He had yet to figure out how to shake it off. It wasn’t a feeling he had encountered before. Sure, he had been sad before, but this was a different kind of sadness, one he couldn’t explain or knew how to handle.

“How was your shower?”

“Nice.”

Draco mumbled a half-hearted response and opening his eyes again, he looked straight into Harry’s emerald eyes. Harry’s intense gaze made him shiver and he felt as though those swirling green orbs were trying to suck him right in their world, draw him under, mesmerise him.

“You left a bunch of purple bite marks all over my body.”

Harry chuckled.

Mischief glimmered in his eyes.

“Like them?” he asked.

Draco felt his cheeks heat underneath that scrutinising look he knew could do the strangest things to him.

He momentarily averted his eyes and idly wondered whether he could get away with flat out denying the fact that he rather fancied the bruises Harry had left behind.

“You’re so cute when you’re blushing,” Harry whispered. “I bet you spent a good few minutes looking at yourself in the mirror before you got in the shower.”

Draco felt his cheeks heat further. He wanted to know why Harry knew that he’d done while all alone in the bathroom but he also wanted to glare at him for that comment.

Before he had the chance to decide how he wanted to react, he felt Harry’s warm lips on his own and abandoning all rational thought, he enthusiastically melted into the kiss. Harry gently massaged his shoulders, then trailed his hands up and down his spine and Draco sighed into the kiss. One kiss, one touch, that was all it ever took for him to feel tranquil enough to let it all go.

Harry pulled away a few minutes later and Draco frowned at him.

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“You know what. How do you know what I am feeling and what will make me feel better? How do you know what I did when you weren’t even there to see me do it?”

* * *

* * *

Harry smiled and reached behind his own back. He took hold of Draco’s hands and squeezed them gently, providing physical comfort before answering Draco’s questions.

“I can read you like a book, Draco, I told you that before. I don’t just pay attention to what’s written on your face, I read between the lines,” he said, ensuring to keep his voice warm and loving.

“After we finished playing, you were thoroughly out of it. You don’t just come back from that after a little nap, it takes a little bit longer than that and after experiencing such intense emotions, you’ll feel a bit rotten for a while, it’s quite natural. Call it a chemical imbalance in the brain if you must put a name on it. But that’s what I’m here for, to take care of you, to keep you safe, to make you feel better. As for the bite marks, there are only two reasons why you brought those up. One, you’re mad at me for marking you. I dismissed that based on the sound of your voice and your reaction when I asked you whether you liked them. That leaves us with option two, which is they thoroughly excite you.”

Draco blushed furiously and attempted to avert his eyes but Harry gently stroked his thumbs over the back of Draco’s hands and subtly held his attention.

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with being excited about a physical reminder of our playtime. You really enjoyed yourself today and seeing the marks will remind you of that thrill.”

“I couldn’t stop touching them.”

Draco admitted with a shy smile and a renewed blush.

 _Rawr, don’t look at me like that, little prince, you have no idea what you’re doing to my sanity_ , Harry thought.

“I bet you couldn’t,” Harry said.

He tried his best to keep his voice even. Just the thought of Draco in the bathroom, admiring his bruises and touching them lightly, his fingertips flitting from one bruise to the next, circling them, perhaps even lightly pressing against the coloured skin—

Harry had to stop himself right there.

He could feel his cock stir in his trousers with definite interest. He wanted to switch their positions, wanted to push Draco up onto the kitchen counter, take off his bathrobe and force his legs apart. He wanted to ravish him all over again. He wanted to touch the marks he had left behind. He wanted to sink his cock into Draco’s undoubtedly still sensitive hole to claim him.

“I— Do you want— Let me show you,” Draco whispered.

He sounded a little breathless and Harry couldn’t help but fret a little over whether he had inadvertently given himself away. Draco pulled his hands away and taking a small step back, he moved to undo the belt that currently held his fluffy midnight blue bathrobe together.

Harry reacted instantly and with the skill of a Seeker as well as a trained Auror. He placed his hands over Draco’s and gently stopped him.

“After dinner, my love, you can show me after dinner and I promise you I’ll kiss each and every single mark I left on you.”

Draco’s eyes darkened at hearing that promise and Harry let go of his hands and cupped his face. He pulled him into a slow kiss which he drew out for the better part of several minutes.

 _Ngh, I want to make you mine all over again, mine today, mine every day, mine forever_ , he thought and resolutely breaking away from the kiss, he walked Draco backwards into the direction of the kitchen table.

“Sit, my love, dinner is almost ready,” he whispered.

Harry pulled a chair out for Draco, who gave him a dazed look but obliged and seated himself and Harry placed his hand underneath Draco’s chin, tilted it upward and kissed him again, then resolutely pulled away and returned to the stove.

He checked on the soup, stirred it a few times, and placed the lid back on the pot. That was as much resolve as he had left before he needed to brace himself on the kitchen counter as he forced himself to take a calming, deep breath. He absolutely wanted to take advantage of Draco, wanted to spread him open on the nearest surface and have his wicked way with him—

“Harry?”

Draco called out to him, effectively cutting through his X-rated thoughts.

 _Oh, thank Merlin_ , Harry thought, grateful for the interruption before his mind had the chance to fully betray him. He took another deep breath and switching a second hotplate on, he placed a frying pan on top and added some oil. While he waited for the oil to heat up, he turned his head and glanced at Draco, noting that he had pulled the bathrobe tighter around himself.

 _You do look good in my clothes, little prince_ , Harry mused with a smile.

“What’s for dinner?”

“Creamy chicken soup, Cajun fried potatoes with sausages and tossed salad. For dessert there is a chocolate fudge cake waiting for you,” Harry answered.

“I’m starving.”

“Give me ten minutes to fry the potatoes and the sausages and we’ll sit down for dinner.”

“Do you want a hand?”

 _Yes_.

Harry absolutely wanted a hand with the uncomfortable hard-on in his jeans. With cooking not so much, he had a handle on that. He couldn’t say the same about his salacious thoughts though; those he most definitely didn’t have a handle on, at least not in Draco’s presence.

Harry smiled.

“Just sit back and relax. Tonight, I’m taking care of everything.”

Draco nodded.

“Hm, all right, then. Am I allowed to get up, though? I’d like to make some tea, I’m parched.”

“Only if you make me a cup too.”

Harry stipulated with a sly smirk and Draco rolled his eyes.

“I would have done that anyway.”

Harry chuckled.

“Aren’t you just my obedient little prince? I may have to reward you later.”

“That oil’s getting too hot, you know,” Draco said, pointedly ignoring Harry’s devious remark, although the cheeky glint in his eyes gave him away.

He slowly rose to his feet, stretching himself unashamedly as he did. While he pottered about the kitchen to boil water and steep two cups of Assam tea, Harry gripped the wooden spatula in his hand tightly. His cock twitched again. The last he wanted to do was to use that flat, blunt blade to fry the potatoes, he’d cut earlier. He wanted to bend Draco over the kitchen table, pull that bathrobe out of the way, expose his bare arse, and bring that spatula down on the pale porcelain skin until it pinked up and reddened. He wanted to hear Draco moan and beg for mercy and—

“ _Damnit_ , Harry Potter, you’re going to set the house on fire!”

Draco snapped, pushed him aside, and snatched the spatula out of his hand. He reduced the heat underneath the frying pan, reached for the bowl of pre-cooked sliced potatoes and tossed them into the pan. They sizzled in the hot oil and Draco gently turned them to ensure that they turned golden brown instead of black.

Harry stared and it took him several moments to shake off the daze. Once he did, he stepped closer, wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist, pulled him flush against his front and kissed his cheek.

“My Saviour,” he whispered, fully aware that Draco could feel his hard-on.

“If this is you taking care of everything, you just failed spectacularly. Turn off your sex brain for a bit there, Director Potter. I know I’m extremely desirable but that’s no need to burn dinner and serve your boyfriend charred food.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Harry apologised. He loosened his hold on Draco and took the spatula from him. “Go make tea, I’ve got this.”

“Are you sure?”

Draco turned his head and frowned at him.

Harry nodded.

“Yes.”

“Good, because if not I will make you take me out to an expensive French restaurant and you will be footing the bill.”

“Anything for you, my little prince.”

“Shopping in New York? Romantic getaway in Paris? Beach holiday to the Maldives?”

Harry laughed and tossed the potatoes.

“All of what I just said.”

“No problem,” Harry said.

“And what do I have to do in return?”

Draco raised an eyebrow at him and the cheeky glint in his eyes made it difficult to resist the overwhelming deluge of naughty ideas that threatened to flood Harry’s mind.

“Whatever makes you think that you’ve got to do anything in return?”

Harry attempted nonchalance, although judging by Draco’s expression he had failed to make it believable.

“I know you, Potter. You _and_ your disposition for kink.”

“Ah, I see. In that case— Hm, let’s see. Yes, well, I’d like to misuse this spatula at some point.”

Draco chuckled.

“Misuse how?”

“Oh, I’m sure you know how. You’ve got a penchant for spankings, haven’t you, my little prince?”

Harry lowered his voice to a seductive drawl and squeezed Draco’s arse to get his point across.

“Dirty, kinky pervert!”

Harry smiled.

“Why, you say the sweetest things!”

“Buy a new one, one that hasn’t been used for cooking, then we’ll talk.”

“Yes, boss.”

Harry turned his attention back to cooking and flipped the browning potato pieces in the pan. He tried to remain calm and collected over the fact that Draco had sort of agreed to a spatula-spanking and while he managed to appear relaxed, he was anything but. His mind was halfway to the local supermarket to purchase a brand-new wooden spatula and it was only Draco’s gentle tap on his forearm that stopped him from burning the potatoes. He added the Cajun seasoning, he had prepared earlier, mixed it under the browning potatoes and let them fry another two minutes before dividing them between the two places, Draco had placed on the worktop beside him.

He gave the pan a quick rinse, added a little more oil and fried half a dozen small sausages.

“Where’s the salad?”

Harry replied without a second thought.

“In the fridge, will you give it another toss?”

“Sure.”

Glancing sideways, Harry watched Draco opening the fridge and taking out a large salad bowl. He placed it on the worktop beside the ridge, reached for the salad tongs and turning his head, he caught Harry staring and frowned.

“What?” he asked.

Harry shrugged.

“Nothing. Just thinking how utterly domestic we both are.”

Draco rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to tossing the salad. Harry tended to the sausages and smiled to himself when he heard Draco let out a low chuckle.

“We’ll be an old married pair before we’ll turn thirty,” he mumbled under his breath.

 _I would love nothing more_ , Harry said to himself. He gave the sausages another few minutes, then placed three onto Draco’s plate and the other three onto his own. He turned the hotplate off, grabbed the two plates and carried them over to the table. He arrived the same time that Draco did and reluctantly waited for him to set the salad bowl down on the table before pulling him into his arms.

“I love you,” he whispered, then kissed Draco soundly and so thoroughly that he was breathless and looked confounded by the time Harry pulled away. He ran his fingers through Draco’s hair, kissed his nose and left Draco resting against the table with one hand curled around the edge to steady himself.

“You drive me mad,” Draco mumbled and clutched at Harry’s shirt.

Harry placed his own hand above Draco’s and squeezed.

“A good kind of mad or a bad kind of mad?”

“Right now, both.”

“Poor little prince,” Harry smiled and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I admit, I love driving you mad.”

Draco hummed and when he pushed away from the table, Harry used that as an opportunity to pull him into his arms and wrap both his arms around him. Draco reciprocated the hug and buried his face in Harry’s neck.

 _Don’t ever leave me, little prince_ , Harry thought and although he really wanted to say the words aloud, he resisted the temptation. Instead, he tightened his hold on Draco and relished in the closeness. He kissed the curve between Draco’s neck and shoulder and delighted in the tiny moan that escaped Draco’s lips and made his skin vibrate.

“Sit, I’ll get the soup,” he mumbled, extracted himself with the greatest reluctance and headed over to the stove to fill two soup bowls with steaming hot creamy chicken soup.

They both sat down at the table and ate in silence. Every now and then, Draco reached across to steal one of his fried potatoes and while Harry normally frowned upon such behaviour, he allowed Draco to get away with it.

Ordering dessert only to hand it over to Draco had become the new normal for him, a few fried potatoes didn’t really matter.

When Draco, however, attempted to steal one of his sausages, Harry caught Draco’s fork with his own and made it impossible for him to withdraw.

“You’re pushing your luck,” he warned playfully.

“Maybe that’s exactly what I want.”

Draco’s wink shot right down his spine and straight into his groin.

Harry growled.

“I will misuse that spatula if you don’t stop.”

“Right here in the kitchen?”

“Yes, right here in the kitchen, right at this table.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Don’t push me.”

Draco attempted to withdraw his fork but Harry didn’t release it.

“Maybe I want to push you.”

“Trust me, you really don’t.”

“But I do.”

Draco was shamelessly goading him now and Harry had to fight to keep it together. But he had played this game a little longer than Draco and he was just that bit better at control.

“If it’s a spanking you want, you’re pressing all the right buttons.”

“Will you use your hand or that spatula?”

“I will summon a riding crop if you don’t behave, you naughty thing you.”

“You love it, Potter.”

Instead of responding, Harry slowly released Draco’s fork and placing his own on a napkin beside his plate, he fixed Draco with a menacing stare and slowly rose to his feet.

“ _Ngh_ , Harry— What are you doing?” Draco asked, sounding just a little unsure.

Harry ignored the question. He rounded the table and towered over Draco.

“Up,” he said quietly.

“Harry—”

“I said, _up_.”

“Why— what—”

“Do I have to repeat myself a third time?” Harry asked firmly.

“N— no.”

Draco shook his head and Harry pulled back to allow him to get up. The moment he was standing upright, Harry grabbed him by the belt of his robe, walked him over to the kitchen counter and trapped him between it and his own body. He pressed himself against Draco’s back and nipped at his earlobe.

“Naughty boy,” he whispered and delighted in the way Draco’s breathing hitched.

He slowly pulled up the bathrobe and exposing most of Draco’s left buttock, he grasped it firmly.

“Be good and eat your dinner, then after dessert, I might just give what you want. If you continue to push me now, I’ll give you what you deserve, not what you want. Are we clear?”

Harry snarled and squeezed Draco’s pert arse firmly enough to make a statement, then dropped the bathrobe.

“Yes, Sir,” Draco mumbled and Harry nipped his earlobe again.

“Good boy. Learn to know your own limits before you push me to give you more.”

Harry took a step back and allowed Draco to turn around and face him. He was frowning.

“What do you mean?”

“Go sit and I’ll explain,” Harry said with a soft smile.

Draco gave a small nod, then returned to his seat and pushed a forkful of fried potatoes into his mouth.

Harry followed and helping himself to some fresh salad, he ate a few forkfuls before he endeavoured to educate Draco on his own limits. Not because he enjoyed letting him hang but because he delighted in testing his patience.

“As I told you earlier, we played all afternoon. You were thoroughly out of it afterwards and slept for several hours, which is perfectly normal. I napped for over an hour myself before I went to clean up and got started on dinner.”

Harry began his explanation but deliberately left out the part where he’d stood by his bed for half an hour simply watching Draco sleep. He hadn’t intended to stare that long but Draco had looked so innocent, so peaceful, and so utterly vulnerable that he hadn’t been able to tear his gaze away. He had no idea how he had stopped himself from touching Draco. A minute had turned into five, which had turned into ten and before he had known it half an hour had passed.

“You were a bit emotional when you came downstairs and—”

Draco blushed and averted his eyes. Harry reached across the table and squeezed his hand gently.

“Hey, look at me—” he said and paused for a moment, waiting for Draco to lift his head. “I told you that it’s quite normal to feel like that after an—”

“I feel fine now,” Draco interrupted and Harry frowned.

“I believe you, but feeling fine doesn’t mean your brain has had the adequate time to catch up replenishing the missing hormones. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be chasing the thrill of provoking me into giving you a spanking. Getting another high is the easiest way to avoid dealing with the low.”

“I—”

Harry gave Draco a pointed look.

“I am not reprimanding you. I would love nothing more than to indulge you and give you exactly what you want but if I always did that, I’d be reckless. I care too much to be impulsive with you. It is not sane and not safe. On some level, it isn’t consensual either and I just don’t do that. This afternoon you gave me permission to take you apart, now allow me the honour to put you back together. I enjoy nothing more than taking care of you after you’ve given me the gift of your submission.”

Draco’s earlier blush returned, stronger than before, and he hastily stuffed his mouth with several pieces of fried potatoes and a large bite of his last sausage.

“Why are you blushing now?” Harry asked, thoroughly baffled over Draco’s reaction.

“Cause of what you just said,” Draco whispered after he finished chewing.

Harry supportively squeezed his hand again.

“It sounded— It felt—”

Draco trailed off, pulled his hand away and let it rest above his own heart.

“In here, it feels more special than you telling me that you love me,” he confessed and Harry’s heart skipped several beats. He wanted to abandon his dinner, get up, and pull Draco into his arms before kissing him senseless. He resisted, for now.

“I could have said that too, I was trying to be romantic,” he smiled, opting for humour to lighten the intense mood between them.

“You were, you are,” Draco said.

He dropped his hand back onto the table, sought out Harry’s and they laced their fingers together, then continued to eat.

“I can’t help but wonder why we wasted so much time in school fighting when we could have had this,” Harry mused and it was only when Draco responded that he realised he’d said the words aloud.

“We had to get all that animosity out of our systems to really appreciate each other’s company. But don’t think for a moment that I’ll ever give up on the divine right to mock you for your Gryffindor righteousness because I absolutely will call you out on your bullshit, _Potter_.”

“Is that a promise?” Harry asked with a sly smirk.

“You bet it is.”

“In that case, sass away, _Malfoy_. Nothing will give me more pleasure than making you pay for it in ways you won’t ever be able to imagine.”

“Are you threatening corporal punishment?”

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not.”

Harry shrugged and nonchalantly resumed eating.

They finished the rest of their dinner in silence and although Draco offered to clear the dishes, Harry resolutely insisted that they clean up together.

Afterwards, they prepared two plates of chocolate fudge cake and Harry made sure to give Draco the bigger piece. He poured a glass of red wine for Draco and a tumbler of Firewhiskey for himself and they settled on the sofa in the living room, opting to sit entangled in each other’s arms with Draco leaning back against Harry and allowing him to feed him his dessert.

At some point, they turned the television on but neither one of them was really watching the programme. Harry was far too distracted by the way Draco’s bathrobe parted at the front, displaying just the right amount of skin for him to look sexy instead of provocative.

Still, Harry didn’t possess enough self-control to stop himself from coating his finger in chocolate cream and smearing it all over Draco’s lips before making him twist his head around to kiss him passionately. He delighted in the unique taste of Draco mixed with the sweet dessert and setting the plate and fork down on the coffee table beside them, he let his hands wander over Draco’s body, gently caressing and teasing him, massaging his shoulders and wrists, as well as intertwining his fingers with Draco’s and mindlessly toying with them while he kissed up and down Draco’s neck, drawing tiny delightful moans from him.

“Harry?” Draco whispered breathlessly into the near-silence of the room.

“Hmm?”

“Those hot and cold sensations you teased me with, how did you do it?”

“A spell.”

“What kind of spell?”

Harry turned his hand to bring his palm face up and mumbling the incantation to the spell he had used earlier, he conjured up bright blue flames and let them flicker in the palm of his hand. He felt Draco tense a great deal in his embrace and tightening his hold on him, he gently kissed Draco’s neck and nibbled at his earlobe.

“Ssh, you’re safe,” he reassured.

“Bluebell Flames,” Draco whispered, his fear clearly audible.

“No.”

Harry breathed the word into his ear.

“Relax. Bluebell Flames would burn you in an instant, you know that. Using those would mean maiming you for life, not giving you pleasure.”

“What then?”

“A variation of the spell. Touch them.”

“No. I’m scared.”

“Don’t be. I promise nothing will happen, trust me.”

Draco hesitated for the longest time, but eventually, he extended a single finger, edged it towards the flames in Harry’s palm and prodded them, then sucked in a sharp breath and shuddered.

“That’s freezing cold fire.”

“Hm, yes. Sort of is.”

“They weren’t this cold when you used them on me.”

“Not at first, later on, yes,” Harry said.

He vanished the flames from his palm with a wave of his hand.

“Teach me the incantation?” Draco asked.

He twisted himself and his head a little and looked at Harry.

Harry nodded.

“Sure,” he said and took both of Draco’s hands and turned them palms up, then caressed them with his thumbs and pressing his mouth to Draco’s ear, he whispered the incantation.

Draco repeated the words and Harry affirmed.

“Very good. Now focus on your palms and try,” he instructed and a minute later blue flames danced in the palm of Draco’s hands.

He had managed to produce them wandlessly and without any real effort.

“They aren’t cold,” Draco said disbelievingly.

“No, not for you, they aren’t. They will be if I touch them,” Harry said

To prove his point, he dipped his finger into the flames and shivered at the cold sensation as the flames licked at his skin.

“What about the hot stings you used?”

“Another spell. End yours and I’ll show you.”

Draco waved his hand and the blue flames disappeared. Harry turned his hand palm up, focused and a few seconds later red-hot flames flared to life in his palm. Draco instinctively reached out to touch the flames but Harry moved them out of his immediate reach.

“It will hurt,” he warned.

“Let me try,” Draco mumbled, chasing the flames with his fingers. Harry brought his hand closer and the moment Draco touched the flames, he yelped, flinched, and pulled away.

“Fucking hell, Potter, that’s— that’s— _fuck_ —”

“How eloquent.”

Harry chuckled and mumbling yet another incantation, he allowed bright red tendrils to coil around his hand and fingers. One of the tendrils chased Draco’s hand but Harry didn’t allow it to sting him. He fully expected Draco to pull away but was surprised to see him holding steady. Harry boldly allowed the tendril to inch forward and when Draco still didn’t pull away, he let it sting the back of his hand.

“ _Ngh_!”

Draco growled through gritted his teeth and suppressed a low moan. Harry vanished the flames and wrapped his arms tightly around Draco. He kissed his neck and nibbled at his earlobe.

“I wasn’t sure whether you’d enjoy sensation play but decided to take a chance. I was worried you might freak, hence the blindfold. Also, not being able to see, well, it heightens the sensations, your other senses, touch especially, will try and compensate.”

“Harry—”

Draco exhaled slowly and letting his head fall back, he closed his eyes and sighed softly.

“I never ever thought I would one day say this but I really liked it,” he whispered. “I— I never felt anything like that before and even though those flames are completely terrifying, can we— can we do it again sometime?”

“Absolutely,” Harry said, trying not to allow his mind to drift as he fantasised of teasing Draco with ice cubes, then covering his body in hot wax.

Somehow, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that Draco would rather enjoy himself. But before he even dared to approach that subject, Draco needed a few more sensation play sessions to really get into the spirit of things.

“Thank you.”

“Ever so polite,” Harry murmured and lapped at Draco’s earlobe. He kissed that sensitive spot just behind his ear, trailed kisses up and down his neck and teased his tongue along Draco’s jugular.

“Bite me, Harry, please. I need you to mark me.”

“Naughty. Are you sure? It’s your neck.”

“Yes, I’m sure. I’ll wear a scarf, I don’t care, just _please_.”

“So desperate,” Harry mumbled.

He let his hand slip inside Draco’s robe and toyed with his nipple, pulling a low moan from him. He placed several more kisses along Draco’s neck, then, unexpectedly sank his teeth into the pale skin, biting and sucking.

Draco groaned and bucked in his arms.

“Fuck, ow! That hurts _so good_.”

Harry chuckled into Draco’s neck and soothed the reddish-purple skin with his tongue and several kisses.

“You really like it when I mark you, don’t you, my love?”

“Mmm, yes. Want to be yours.”

“You are mine. Mine forever. I’m not letting you go, Draco Malfoy. You belong to me.”

“Yes, _ngh_ , yes, I belong to you, I want that, yes, yes, yes, one thousand times yes.”

“Such sweet words of surrender, such a beautiful promise,” Harry whispered.

He could feel his cock stir again and he wanted Draco so badly, wanted to take him upstairs and—

 _No_ , he firmly told himself and to silence his treacherous mind, he pulled Draco into a fervent kiss to which Draco submitted instantly and without the slightest bit of hesitation. He plunged his tongue deep into Draco’s mouth, swept over and around his tongue and properly seduced him until he was sure that he had succeeded in turning Draco into a breathless, limbless, quivering wreck.

When he pulled away, Draco simply lay in his arms, attempted to regulate his breathing, and mumbled something entirely incomprehensible. Unable to restrain himself, Harry undid the knot at the front of Draco’s bathrobe and exposed his lithe body. Draco shivered in his arms but didn’t object to Harry’s fingertips teasing over his torso, seeking out one of the bruises that he had left behind earlier today. He circled the first one in his immediate reach, starting with big circles that steadily grew smaller until his fingertip rested right in the centre of the bruise. With each circle, he felt his own cock twitch and saw Draco’s bob in much the same manner.

Draco was hard. His cock stood proud, pointing towards his navel and Harry licked his lips in appreciation. He loved seeing Draco aroused, loved it when he was excited.

He pressed his mouth against Draco’s ear, nibbled at his earlobe and drew a low moan from the depths of Draco’s chest. It resonated around the room, shot down Harry’s spine, and tingled in his groin, repeatedly making his own cock twitch in its confines.

Harry ignored it.

Instead, he sought out another one of Draco’s bruises and subjected it to the same treatment; slow and steady circles, gradually growing smaller until he had reached the centre.

“I am not going to fuck you tonight, Draco, there’s absolutely no way—”

“What if I beg and plead?”

Harry chuckled into Draco’s ear.

“Then you can beg and plead all night while I take a phial of Dreamless Sleep and ignore you.”

“You’re really going to leave me hard and hot all night?” Draco whined.

“I never said I would leave you hard and hot all night, don’t give me ideas, my love. I said I wouldn’t fuck you. But you’ve had a good rest, you had a shower, you ate plenty of food and you had your favourite dessert. I’m not opposed to rewarding you with a little handjob, but—”

Harry trailed off and focused on yet another one of Draco’s bruises. The deep purple skin looked absolutely stunning against the pale porcelain backdrop and he wanted to savour the memory forever. He wanted to mark Draco again, wanted him to always have a visual reminder of their encounters in his playroom.

“But what?” Draco asked, sounding breathless.

He flexed his fingers, curling them into tight fists and then relaxing them again and spread his legs, allowing one of them to drop off the sofa.

“I want to make this good for you, so you’ll have to tell me what you want me to do.”

Draco let out a long, high-pitched complaining cry and Harry kissed the side of his neck and sought out another bruise, this one small but extremely vivid. He applied a bit of pressure to it and Draco whimpered, though Harry knew that it wasn’t because he was in pain.

“Touch me, please,” Draco begged him.

Harry placed his flat palms above Draco’s collarbone and stroked down his chest and stomach, then moved to stroke along either side of his cock and out along his inner thighs, as far as he could reach. He grazed his fingertips up Draco’s inner thighs and repeated the motion in reverse.

“Like so?”

“Yes.”

Draco exhaled and let out a low moan. His stomach muscles quivered and Harry continued to caress him, paying special attention to his nipples, which hardened underneath his touch, and his navel.

He shuffled back a little, made Draco sit up a little more and got him to spread his legs a bit further. Draco’s hands rested on his thighs and Harry relished in the pressure of feeling Draco’s fingers dig through his clothing and into his skin.

He continued to caress Draco, teasing, and touching him until his head fell back and he rested it on Harry’s shoulder. He nibbled on Draco’s earlobe and breathed hotly into his ear.

“What next?”

“Touch my cock.”

“Say _please_.”

“Please, Harry, please.”

“Good boy, take my hand and put it where you want it, how you want it.”

Draco’s hand trembled as he reached for Harry’s and he placed it on his cock, making sure that Harry’s thumb pointed towards the head and the little finger towards the base. Harry summoned a phial of lube, flicked the cork off and poured a generous amount over Draco’s erection, then spread it out with several slow, teasing strokes.

Draco moaned, loud and shamelessly.

“Does that feel good, my love?”

“ _Ngh_ , yes, so good. Please don’t stop.”

“How do you want me to continue?” Harry asked, then nibbled on Draco’s earlobe.

“Just— just like this, go slow, tease me.”

“I can do that. This feels so good, Draco, I love touching your cock, it fits perfectly into my hand, it’s so smooth, so hard.”

“Fuck—”

Draco whimpered.

“Please keep talking, please,” he begged.

Harry smirked against his earlobe.

“I want to make you feel so good, I want to make you come so hard, I want to give you a toe-curling orgasm. I want to hear you moan for me, listen to you tell me exactly what you want, what you like. I’ll make this so good for you, my love, I’ll take such good care of you, I promise.”

“Oh, oh, oh fuck— Yes, yes, yes, please, _ngh_ , please don’t stop, please.”

“I’m not going to stop unless you tell me to, I promise. You’re in control, use my hand however you want.”

“Harry—”

Draco trailed off, groaning softly.

“Just a little more pressure, please.”

“Of course,” Harry whispered into his ear and gripped Draco’s cock just a little bit firmer.

“Like this?”

“Yes, yes, that’s so good. And— and tug a bit, tug— on the upward stroke— oh fuck— yes, just like that, fuck, please—”

“Do you like this?”

“Yes, this is perfect.”

“This feels so good, you’re all slicked up, just sliding through my fist.”

“ _Ngh_ , oh yes, please, please, touch the inside of my thighs and my balls please.”

“Touch them how?”

“Just— just roll them in your hand, squeeze a little bit, and rub your finger— your fingertip against the skin just— just behind them.”

Harry obliged. He alternated between grazing and gently brushing his fingertips over the inside of Draco’s thighs, then tapped his fingers over Draco’s hipbone, along the top of his thigh and down towards his balls. He caressed them gently, first letting his fingers flutter over the sensitive sack, then took them in his hand, letting them rest in his palm. He squeezed ever so gently and circled his thumb around the head off Draco’s cock, making sure to stay away from the very tip.

Draco let out a long moan and several very colourful expletives. Harry chuckled and blew hot air over his ear, teasing him so more. Draco shuddered in his arms.

“Does that feel good?”

“Yes, Harry, yes, so fucking good, please, just stroke me a little faster.”

“With pleasure.”

Harry increased the pace of strokes but alternated between the pressure he applied to Draco’s cock. He rubbed his finger gently over the perineum behind Draco’s balls and elicited another long moan from him. The sound was music to his ears. He thoroughly enjoyed allowing Draco the pleasure of dominating his hand and deciding how and where he wanted Harry to touch him.

“Slow down, tease me some more,” Draco whispered.

“Ah, yes, so good, oh fuck— Now— now— just— _ngh_! More pressure.”

Harry kept his strokes slow, teasing, but added more pressure, just as Draco had requested. He added a surprise tug here and there and continued to caress Draco’s balls and the extremely sensitive spot behind them. Draco breathed heavily and struggled to form coherent sentences, needing more time to give voice to his instructions. Harry wanted to touch himself badly but he didn’t have a free hand to do so. He also wanted to fuck Draco, wanted to claim him, wanted to take him, and make him his but he had enough self-control and sense to resist that very urge. Today had been all about providing Draco with pleasure, showing him exactly how good submission felt when you let go completely and trusted that the other person had the power to make you feel simply fantastic. For that very reason, as well as Draco’s mental health, he wasn’t about to take things to heights he knew Draco couldn’t handle.

“Harry— _ngh_ , Harry, please, stop, please I’m gonna— I don’t— please, stop.”

Draco panted, begging Harry not to let him come just yet. Harry gratified his wishes and letting go of his cock, he gave Draco a moment to come down.

“Edging yourself, huh?” he teased.

Draco mewled.

“Yes, please, just— I want this— I— just a little longer, please.”

“Of course, anything you want, my love. I told you, you’re in charge.”

 _The most beautiful mindfuck of all_ , Harry thought.

He loved making Draco believe that he was in control of the handjob when, in fact, it was Harry who held all the cards.

“Please, Harry, please, I need more.”

“Calmed down enough?”

“Yes, ah, please, continue, I need your hand on me.”

“Certainly, my love.”

“Oh fuck, thank you, you are— _ngh_ , this is, you’re so good.”

“Such sweet words of praise,” Harry chuckled as he wrapped his hand around Draco’s cock and resumed stroking it, using a random mixture of all the instructions Draco had already given him. He gave it enough consistency to make it pleasurable but changed things up every so often and when Draco least expected it.

“Do you have any idea how absolutely fucking gorgeous you look, my love? Lying in my arms like this with your bathrobe undone and your legs spread wide, marked from our earlier play, breathless, panting, desperate for my touch, my hands on your cock, doing your bidding. Fuck, Draco, you are a wet dream come true, you are _my_ wet dream come true.”

“Oh, _ngh_ , Harry faster please, please, _please_ —”

Harry followed the instruction and allowed his hand to fly over Draco’s cock. His pace was quick and practised. Most of his movement came from his wrist. He only used his biceps and triceps to control the strength when he felt it necessary to add a bit of a twist.

“ _Stop_!”

Draco nearly screamed the word as he bucked his hips and thrust up, trying to gain friction from the hand that had already left his cock. He was, once again, tethering on the very edge and Harry gently pinched his inner thigh to help him come back down again.

“You’re really enjoying drawing this out, aren’t you, my love?” Harry whispered and Draco whimpered. Harry rested his hand on Draco’s quivering stomach and distracted him with a few nibbles to his earlobe.

“I love seeing you like this, fighting off your orgasm, wanting to make it last. This why I always make you wait; make you hold it. Such a beautiful sight, such a turn on too, Draco. You drive me wild; do you know that?”

“ _Ngh_ , please, Harry, just, oh fuck— Just finish me, please, I can’t do another one— I need— I need to—”

“Come?”

“Yes, fuck, yes, yes, yes—”

“I’d love to make you come, my love.”

“Please, Harry, please.”

“Your wish is my command, Draco.”

Harry wrapped his fingers around Draco’s cock and stroked him with a sense of purpose. No more teasing. Draco had been so good. He had talked him through everything and he had more than earned his release. Harry incorporated all the things Draco had told him he liked, added a few unexpected surprises of his own and just when Draco was seconds away from sailing over the edge, he slipped his index finger between his arse cheeks and gently rubbed it against Draco’s still sensitive hole. Once, twice, and on the third rub, Draco tensed, his body convulsed and he shuddered.

“Harry, I’m— I’m gonna— I will— I— please, oh please.”

“Come, my love, come for me,” Harry correctly guessed the words Draco wanted to hear. The moment he uttered them, Draco exploded all over his hand, coating it and himself with thick spurts of creamy-white come.

He took forever to ride out his high and for a moment Harry stroked his slowly softening cock but stopped when he sensed that the caress was getting too sensitive for Draco to endure.

Instead, he whispered a gentle cleaning charm, wrapped Draco in his rope and tied a knot into the belt. He held Draco in his arms and gave him all the time in the world to come down from his orgasm. It took him several minutes before he slowly stirred, moved, and turned to look at Harry with a thoroughly dazed expression.

“Sex god,” he whispered and Harry laughed.

“That good, eh?”

“Better,” Draco smiled.

He shuffled a little more and Harry silently watched as he pushed the coffee table away, gracefully slid off the sofa and knelt on the carpet. He tugged on Harry’s legs moving them into the desired position which meant Harry had to lean back and drop both legs off the sofa. Draco spread them far apart, shuffled to kneel in-between them and slowly ran his hands up and down Harry’s inner thighs. He buried his face in his crotch and Harry heard and felt him inhale deeply.

His fingers nimbly undid Harry’s trousers and he insistently tugged on them until Harry lifted his arse off the sofa and allowed Draco to pull them off and toss them aside. He watched as Draco licked his lips in appreciation.

Much to his surprise, Draco didn’t immediately take him into his mouth.

Instead, he rested his cheek on Harry’s leg and inhaled deeply, then exhaled, blowing hot air over Harry’s twitching cock.

Harry wanted to run his fingers through Draco’s hair and guide his mouth to his cock, wanted to make him swallow every inch right down to the base, but he resisted the urge and pressed his palms down against the sofa cushions to his left and right to ground himself.

“I love your cock, it’s gorgeous,” Draco suddenly spoke, his voice so soft that Harry nearly missed it. He let out a low growl.

“I love absolutely everything about it. The way it looks, the way it feels, the way it tastes, the way it fills my mouth, my hole, the way—”

Harry groaned.

“Fuck— Draco, don’t, you’ll ruin me.”

Draco looked up at him from under lowered lashes.

“I love pleasing you, I love pleasing your cock. Please, may I suck it?” Draco asked and Harry had to close his eyes to be able to remember how to breathe. He inhaled sharply and nodded.

“Yes, Draco, yes, you may.”

Having explicit permission to proceed, Draco did not hesitate. He lifted his head off Harry’s thigh, parted his lips, gently kissed the tip of Harry’s cock, then swallowed him down.

Harry let out an almost guttural groan and lost his resolve not to twist his fingers into Draco’s hair and guide him. Compared to his usual style, he was subtle about it and resisted his desire to thrust into Draco’s mouth. He absolutely loved the way Draco’s lips stretched around his thick, hard cock, the way he effortlessly swallowed him down and how he used the perfect mixture of tongue, pressure, and suction to really drive Harry wanton with the desire to explode in his mouth.

He’d been hard and aroused for such a long time that it didn’t take much for Draco to finish the job and Harry felt his orgasm take off somewhere in the depths of his groin. It spread through him like unstoppable wildfire and while he normally enjoyed denying himself his orgasm for at least a while, he didn’t care for it now.

All he wanted was to come and come hard.

“Swallow?” he whispered breathlessly.

Draco looked up at him from under his lowered lashes. He held Harry’s gaze for several moments, then blinked once and took him in deep.

Harry moaned, threw his head back and twisted his fingers tightly into Draco’s hair.

“Fuck— yes, my love, you give the best head— oh fuck— yes, just like that, Draco, be my good boy— make me come, take it— take all of it— swallow everything I give you.”

He raised his hips slightly and thrust into Draco’s mouth. Draco took the hint and pulling back a little, he allowed Harry to finish the job at his pace, providing the right amount of suction and a warm wet cavern for Harry to sink his cock into. He felt like he was in the seventh heaven, delirious with desire and tethering so close to the edge.

It only took a few more thrusts, a few more sucks and Harry let go. His climax tore through him, briefly severing the connection between his brain and his lungs. His heart pounded in his chest, his toes curled against the carpet and his grip on Draco’s hair tightened. His release shot through him and he spilt it into Draco’s awaiting mouth. He felt him swallow around his cock, and let out a loud, long groan as he rode the wave of pleasure.

Draco let his cock plop from his mouth, kissed it and then stroked it gently with one hand, prolonging Harry’s orgasm for just a few more seconds.

Feeling quite out of sorts and thoroughly shattered over the fact that he had come three times in one day, Harry took a few moments to recover, then forced himself to lift his head and gently ran his fingers through Draco’s hair and his thumb over his red, swollen lips.

“You missed a drop,” he whispered breathlessly.

Draco wordlessly sucked his thumb into his mouth and for a split-second, Harry cursed the existence of a refractory period as he wished that he could get hard again. He couldn’t think of a more erotic sight than Draco Malfoy on his knees, dressed in only a fluffy bathrobe and looking completely and utterly debauched.

“You absolutely are the most gorgeous man I have ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on.”

Draco averted his eyes and if it wasn’t for his already flushed cheeks, he would have blushed furiously, Harry was quite sure of that.

“Come up, here you perfect angel,” Harry said.

He reached for Draco’s hands, he pulled him back up onto the sofa and wrapped his arms around him, hugging him tightly. They shared a slow, lazy kiss and when they broke apart, Draco tried to suppress a yawn but wasn’t entirely successful.

Harry chuckled softly.

“Let’s go to bed, it’s been a long day.”

“Best idea you had all day,” Draco mumbled.

“All day?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah I do, I just can’t resist teasing you.”

“I make it too easy, don’t I?”

“Absolutely.”

Harry smiled and dragging himself to his feet, he pulled Draco up with him and gave the mess on the coffee table and his trousers on the floor a cursory glance. In a manner rather unlike himself, he decided to take care of all that tomorrow. He reached for the remote control, turned the television off, and interlacing his fingers with Draco’s, he pulled him out of the room, switching the light off as they went.

They were halfway up the stairs when Draco tugged on his hand and pulled them to a stop. Harry half-turned and raised an eyebrow at Draco.

“I have a bold little request,” Draco said quietly and descending a step, Harry loosely wrapped his arms around his waist and crooked an eyebrow at him.

“Tomorrow morning, first thing after we wake up, make love to me, sickeningly sweet romantic love.”

Harry smiled.

“I wish it was morning already,” he simply said and pulled Draco into a fierce kiss, then dragged him up the stairs and into his bedroom.

 _One of these days it’ll be ours_ , he thought, allowing himself a fleeting moment to indulge in a fantasy of forever after together with Draco.


	46. Daffodils & Dragons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a change, I really don't have much to say about this chapter, except that it probably was one of the most difficult chapters to write. It took several attempts, all of them painful, until I managed to produce something readable.
> 
> As for the Manor, I've entirely ignored anything that was ever shown in the movies (and described in the books) and created my very own version, which required a lot research into the layout of a proper Manor and the different rooms that came with it. Despite being a difficult chapter to write, I ultimately had a lot of fun with it (after I got over my initial frustration).
> 
> I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Selly x

* * *

“I still can’t believe you finally managed to talk me into this,” Harry mumbled, continuously shaking his head. It was quite amusing to watch really.

“I can be very persuasive when I want to be, just like you. It just so happens that I enjoy your persuasion skills a lot more and therefore apply mine solely in the courtroom.”

Draco chuckled and Harry stopped shaking his head quite so much, turned and shot him a sideways glance, then smiled.

They stood in front of the imposing iron-wrought gates to Malfoy Manor and Harry had asked him for a moment to gather himself before they headed down the long path that let up to the Manor and inside the grand building. They could have floo’ed straight over from Grimmauld Place but Harry insisted that they use the front gates.

 _You know, like ordinary visitors do when invited for tea and scones_ , he had said and while Draco couldn’t really understand that reasoning, after all, they were both wizards, he respected Harry too much to pick a fight with him over something as simple as entering the Manor through the main entrance.

Granted, he couldn’t remember the last time he had done so but that didn’t matter now, or ever.

Sensing Harry’s lingering mild trepidation, Draco squeezed his hand, offering silent comfort. He wanted to tell Harry that he could take as much time as he needed but a little voice told him that their physical connection was enough to get that message across to Harry.

It had taken him the better part of two weeks to convince Harry to accept his mother’s invitation for them to join her for tea in the winter garden.

The first time he had asked, Harry had baulked at the very idea and told him outright that he had no desire to return to the one place, Death Eaters had once held him captive in.

Draco had tried to reason that his mother had completely redecorated the Manor and that the place Harry remembered no longer existed. Said reasoning hadn’t gone down in his favour and Harry had stubbornly rejected the idea of a visit to the Manor.

Instead of offering to ask his mother to meet them at his Notting Hill flat, Draco had seen Harry’s reluctance as a personal attack and things had, of course, escalated into a full-blown argument — not their first and most definitely not their last. After stubbornly ignoring Harry for an afternoon, Draco had eventually seen reason and apologised and they’d made up.

That, in return, had resulted in the best make-up sex Draco had ever had and he still had fond memories of it now. Sex with Harry was always wild, in the best possible way, and unpredictably kinky.

The second time he had asked, Harry had utilised his devious Slytherin side and diverted his attention with a lovely little session during which Draco had found himself blindfolded and restrained to the scorpion chair in Harry’s playroom.

Harry had teased him with a feather and the sharp thorns of a rose stem before edging him for the better part of an hour, using only his mouth and fingers.

By the time Draco had realised that Harry had played him, he’d been too desperate to come to care about persuading Harry any further.

Instead, he had shamelessly begged Harry to fuck his mouth and then his hole, then begged and pleaded for his own release and by the time they had finished playing, he had been too tired and too out of it to bother with such trivial matters as asking Harry to accept his mother’s invitation to join her for tea.

The third time he had asked, he had sassed until Harry had threatened him with a sound spanking. A small part of him had told him that the smart course of action would be to back down but his prosecutor’s instincts had taken over and told him to remain persistent.

He had blatantly resolved to emotional blackmail, citing that he had allowed Harry to talk him into dinner at the Burrow and meeting Molly. That hadn’t gone down well at all, and if Harry had at any point been willing to listen to reason, he’d stopped right there.

He’d refused to yield to extortion and resolutely ended the conversation, which had left Draco feeling terrible. Knowing that he had upset Harry had almost made him want to ask for a punishment but he hadn’t managed to get those words out, although, for some reason, a small part of him thought, or at least wanted to believe, that Harry had somewhat of an inkling about his feelings on the matter.

The fourth time he had asked, he had almost given in to the temptation to resolve to underhanded Slytherin tactics to change Harry’s mind. Then he had recalled that he had tried that before and how successful he had been in trying to get his own way.

Instead, he had confessed to Harry that he wanted to pamper him because he had ulterior motives. Harry had laughed and given him permission to be sly which had felt even better than doing it without Harry’s knowledge.

He had gone all out and made every effort to impress, had cooked a lavish four-course meal, treated Harry to an hour-long massage and when that had left Harry with a raging hard-on, he had sucked him off but had refused to allow him to return the favour.

Instead, he had offered Harry a tumbler of Firewhiskey and remembering that they had their most intimate conversations while naked and in bed, he had stripped off and curled up beside Harry, resting his head on his chest.

While Harry had stroked his hair, Draco had spilt his guts to him and told him why he so desperately wanted him to meet his mother.

Everyone had the Burrow had welcomed him and given him a second chance. He wanted nothing more than for Harry to give his mother a second chance. He wanted to show her how happy they were together and how much in love they were.

At that point, after quietly listening for the better part of three-quarters of an hour, Harry had set his drink aside, rolled him over and made sweet, sweet love to him — the kind that left you just as breathless and reeling as kinky play. Afterwards, when Harry had spooned him, he promised to think about it.

The fifth time he had asked or had wanted to ask, Harry had beaten him to the punch and told him to tell his mother that they would visit the following Sunday, a week before Christmas.

Unable to contain his emotions, Draco had burst into tears.

Harry had wiped them all away and when Draco hadn’t been able to stop more from falling, Harry had resorted to kissing them away.

Thinking back, Draco still felt mortified about his emotional outburst but Harry had been so tender and so loving and somehow the memory of that was more important than crying for no apparent reason.

Over the course of the last week, Draco had found himself falling even more in love with Harry’s caring side as well as his dominant side and he had concluded that he needed both these sides, needed them like the flowers needed the rain.

And now here they were.

All that separated him from bringing Harry home to finally meet his mother was a set of iron gates and drawing his wand, Draco gently tapped it against the gate and muttered an incantation, he hadn’t used in a very long time.

The ancient wards that protected the Manor recognised his magical signature and the gates swung open.

He instinctively squeezed Harry’s hand tighter.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Ready,” Harry answered.

They walked down the pebbled driveway that let up to the truly eye-catching building that Malfoy Manor was. His mother had replaced the tall hedges with precious flowerbeds and complicated charms protected a sea of yellow daffodils.

The trumpet-shaped bulbs were his mother’s favourite winter flowers, although every June she insisted on decorating the entire Manor with colourful arrangements of snapdragons. She’d done so every year since 1980 except for 1997 and 1998 when Voldemort had taken over the Manor and turned the place into a bleak fortress rather than the stunning Malfoy ancestral home the Manor had always been.

When they approached the portico, the grand black Georgian double-doors opened and Draco gasped. His mother had dressed in her finest dark blue robes and her long black hair with her exquisite platinum-blond highlights cascaded down her back. She looked every bit the stunning young witch, Draco remembered seeing when he had perused family photo albums in his youth.

“Mother’s wearing her best robes, she’s trying to impress you,” he whispered and suppressed a smile when he heard Harry laugh beside him.

“Too bad I play for the other team.”

“Gross, Potter, that’s my _mother_ we’re talking about.”

“Don’t worry I only have eyes for you. She does look stunning though.”

“Tell her that, I’m sure it’ll get you into her good books.”

“I thought as the person responsible for putting a smile on your face being in her good books was a given?”

“You’re not at all presumptuous, are you, Potter?”

Harry laughed.

“Not in the least, whatever gave you that idea?”

Draco ignored the question in favour of letting go of Harry’s hand to greet his mother. They hugged each other and he kissed her cheek before withdrawing.

“Mother—”

Draco paused, suddenly feeling rather awkward about introducing Harry to his mother when she knew exactly who he was. He took a deep breath started over.

“Mother, meet my boyfriend, Harry Potter.”

Draco tried not to cringe as he said the words, not because he felt embarrassed about introducing Harry as his boyfriend but because introducing Harry in such a manner felt completely ridiculous.

* * *

* * *

“It’s been a while, Mr Potter,” Narcissa Malfoy said with a polite smile.

She gracefully stepped aside and urged them to step out of the unpleasant winter cold and into the warmth of the Manor.

Harry hesitated for a moment, then followed Draco over the threshold and into the large entrance hall. He had made every effort to keep an open mind about returning to the Manor but the sight that greeted him still baffled him.

The place looked surprisingly bright and welcoming, homely even if one was accustomed to living in an opulent centuries-old building, which he wasn’t, unless, of course, he counted Hogwarts as part of the experience. The decorations in the entrance hall included several old pieces of furniture, a few non-magical portraits, and ancient-looking tapestries, as well as a dark grey, weaved expensive-looking carpet that covered most of the floor.

As he looked around, Harry was vaguely aware of the front door closing and taking a deep breath, he firmly ignored the mild bout of fear that attempted to grasp at his insides.

He wasn’t a prisoner; he was here out of his own volition and he was free to leave any time he wanted to. He took a few deep breaths to calm his fraying nerves and realising that he had yet to respond to Narcissa Malfoy’s greeting, he turned to face her and extended his hand.

“It’s certainly been a few years, Mrs Malfoy. You look stunning,” he said politely, complimenting her appearance.

Narcissa Malfoy smiled. It wasn’t exactly a warm smile but it was still a smile and Harry decided that it was a small victory.

“Such formalities, what century are we in again?”

Draco rolled his eyes at them, which made Harry want to laugh but he suppressed the urge.

Instead, he watched as Draco shrugged off his heavy winter coat and took off his scarf.

A female house-elf, dressed in a clean white linen dress, not a pillowcase, appeared instantly. She accepted his coat and scarf, then patiently waited, nervously shuffling from one foot to the other.

Harry stared at her and instantly thought of Dobby and his heart gave a painful twist. His expression had apparently given him away, for Draco moved to stand closer to him, casually brushing the back of his hand against his in silent comfort.

“Mr Potter, Sir, may Misty take your coat, please?” she squeaked.

“Absolutely, Misty.”

Harry took off his thick, black down jacket as well as his scarf and handed it to her. She beamed at him and disappeared with a faint pop.

“Well then, gentlemen, tea? The temperature in the winter garden is most comfortable, I’ve asked the elves to set everything up for us there.”

“Aren’t you going to offer to show Harry around the Manor?” Draco asked curiously and Harry watched as his mother regarded him with an odd half-smile.

“One should never wander the halls of a Manor on an empty stomach. I would have thought you know that Draco,” she said. “You never know what curious things you might find that occupy you for hours on end. So, tea first and then we shall show Mr Potter the Manor, should he wish to wander these ancient halls with us that is.”

“Mrs Malfoy, I’m quite alright with you calling me Harry.”

“Certainly, as you wish, _Harry_.”

Narcissa inclined her head and then proceeded to wordlessly glide through the entrance hall.

Harry stared after her for a moment, then raised an eyebrow at Draco, who shrugged and properly took his hand.

“She’s odd but lovable, you’ll see.”

“I’ll take your word for it, my little prince.”

Harry smirked and delighted in the way Draco shuddered at the sudden mention of his special nickname. He lowered his head slightly and with a low chuckle, Harry squeezed his hand.

“Come on, take me to the winter garden before your mother accuses me of ravishing you in the Manor’s entrance hall.”

“You wouldn’t!”

Draco looked mock-affronted and Harry winked at him.

“If we were alone with no chance of being disturbed I possibly absolutely would. You are too hot for me to want to keep my hands off you for too long.”

Draco shook his head in silent disbelief.

“Potter, you are— I have no words for what you are.”

“Kinky? Naughty? Shameless? Irresistible? Handsome? Loveable?”

Harry offered several choices; all described him favourably.

He still felt rather off about being back at Malfoy Manor, a place he hadn’t ever considered visiting again, but somehow bantering with Draco took his mind off that fact and made it easier to forget about his surroundings or rather slowly learn to enjoy them.

“All of that and then some!”

Draco hissed the words at him and then he pulled him across the entrance hall and down a long corridor.

“I like the sound of and then some.”

Harry chuckled as he trotted behind Draco. They walked all the way to the end of the corridor, turned left, and then walked down another long corridor before turning right.

Soon enough, they found themselves standing in a large room with a dome-shaped glass roof. It was considerably warmer inside the room and rays of sunshine beamed down from the charmed high ceiling. Large palm trees and a wide variety of exotic flowers breathed life into the room and gave it a sense of freshness. It was an actual garden inside the house; a fancy greenhouse really. A wicker table and three matching cushioned wicker wingback armchairs surrounded the table.

Narcissa Malfoy sat in one of those chairs, though she rose to her feet as they approached and motioned for them to take a seat.

“Draco, I have your cappuccino and as requested by my son black filter coffee for you, Harry,” she said as they moved closer.

Harry cast a curious sideways glance at Draco, who caught it and shrugged.

“Might have told her about your coffee preference.”

“Tea would have been fine, you know.”

“I know, but I like pleasing you.”

Draco lowered his voice and whispered his response. It was filled with the promise of submission and a strange sort of longing to fulfil that desire and it made Harry shiver, not only because that sentence had a completely different meaning for them both but because Draco had said it only a few feet away from the table where Narcissa could have easily heard him.

“You—”

Harry started but trailed off, deciding to save his words for later.

Instead, he moved to a chair and politely waited for Narcissa Malfoy to sit down again before he took his seat. Draco apparently didn’t care to be quite that respectful towards his mother. He simply slumped into his armchair, leant back into the cushions, and sighed.

“I hate winter, thanks for the warmer temperatures, Mother.”

“You are most welcome, Draco.”

Narcissa Malfoy smiled as she poured herself a cup of tea, amber in colour and added a bit of rock sugar, then stirred it slowly and elegantly with a small spoon.

“Have some coffee, Harry,” she suggested.

She gestured towards the French Press which gently lifted off the table, floated over to Harry’s cup and then slowly tipped over, filling his cup with fragrant black coffee.

Harry waited for the French Press to finish pouring his coffee, then took a careful sip of the hot beverage and nodded approvingly.

“This is excellent coffee, Mrs Malfoy.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“Merlin, you two make my skin crawl.”

Draco looked back and forth between them both as he took one of the sweet pastries from the cake stand nearest to him.

“For the love of Salazar Slytherin, loosen up. It’s like watching those Muggle shopping display mannequins. Mother, it’s only Harry, just be yourself. He endured nearly seven years of my taunts at Hogwarts and we’ve been dating for the better part of this year. It takes a bit of imagination to try and offended the man, though I’d advise you not to attempt it, he has wicked ways of retaliating,” he said and falling silent, he stuffed half of the sweet pastry into his mouth and chewed.

Narcissa and Harry regarded him for a full minute before his mother chuckled softly and Harry tried but failed to suppress a grin.

“Well, that’s the ice broken, I consider my job done. I’m going to stuff my face with sweet pastries and drink my cappuccino. You two, play nice please, you are my favourite two people in the whole world.”

Draco shot him a lopsided grin and Harry shook his head.

“And here was I thinking that you don’t condone it when your only son speaks to you like that, Mrs Malfoy,” Harry said with a soft smile.

He helped himself to a small cheese and cucumber sandwich triangle.

“I wouldn’t usually but he has blossomed since the two of you started courting, although I must admit I see him less now that he’s all loved up. Then again, so long as he is happy, I’m willing to accept that sacrifice. I had him for the first nineteen years of his life, it’s only fair that somebody else, somebody who’s good for him, gets a chance.”

“Is that a subtle way of telling me I should share more? I’m an only child, you know? Sharing doesn’t come naturally.”

Narcissa Malfoy smiled.

“So is Draco, he never liked sharing either. Just look how long it’s taken for him to bring you along for tea.”

Harry furrowed his brow and cast a quick sideways glance at Draco, who deliberately avoided looking at him and instead busied himself with devouring yet another sweet pastry.

_Did you lie to your own mother, my naughty little prince?_

Harry couldn’t help but wonder and reaching for his coffee mug, he took a sip of the hot beverage and allowed a minute of silence to pass before clearing his throat and confessing the real reason for his reluctance to meet Draco’s mother.

It had never been about her and always about the location.

“I’m afraid that was my fault, Mrs Malfoy, I was rather stubborn about coming back here. As you may remember, I don’t have the best memories of this place. Draco asked several times but I kept turning him down. My apologies for being pig-headed.”

Narcissa nodded thoughtfully.

“I see.”

Instead of elaborating any further, she elegantly lifted her teacup off its saucer and took a few sips. She remained silent for another moment or two, then utterly surprised Harry with what she said next.

“I can assure you, Harry, had you outright rejected my invitation to come by the Manor, I wouldn’t have been the least bit offended, however, each time I asked when I might get to meet you, my son childishly dodged the question.”

Harry raised a questioning eyebrow at Narcissa Malfoy, who smiled at him over the rim of her teacup.

“Did he now? He was rather persistent when he tried to convince me to accompany him to meet you, he’s been asking for weeks,” he said with amusement and glanced at Draco who was squirming in his chair, admiring his fingers, which he had wrapped around his coffee mug, and blushing furiously.

 _Pretty little prince, just what did you tell your mother_ , Harry thought, _I should like to make your other set of cheeks blush the same shade of red, it really does suit you._

Narcissa nodded.

“I imagine what with you now being in charge of the whole Auror department, the workload must be quite something.”

“Absolutely. There’s entirely too much paperwork to go through.”

Harry sighed. The mere thought of the never-ceasing stacks of documents and case files on his desk made him shudder.

“If it’s not confidential in nature, though I assume it isn’t since Draco had permission to tell me about it, how was your assignment in Italy last weekend? In my memory, the Italian Ministry of Magic can be rather awkward about things. Their bureaucracy is an astounding nightmare.”

Harry frowned.

“Italy?”

He turned his head to look at Draco’s, whose cheeks had turned a deep crimson red.

“I was under the impression you’d been called over to the continent on an urgent assignment.”

“Was I? Draco? Do you care to elaborate? I don’t seem to remember that particular business trip.”

Harry posed his question to Draco directly but caught the amused twinkle in Narcissa Malfoy’s grey-blue eyes.

She’d clearly realised that her son had fibbed her and made up an excuse instead divulging the real reason as to why he showed up without Harry time after time.

Harry supposed the only reason Narcissa Malfoy hadn’t questioned the truth behind her son’s relationship with him had been the photos every Wizarding publication in Britain had splashed across their front pages for weeks on end. Harry’s exclusive interview with the Prophet had probably also helped to stop her from suspecting whether he and Draco were in fact in a real relationship or whether Draco had made the whole thing up.

Harry couldn’t help but admire the woman sat across from him. She didn’t appear the least bit angry.

If anything, she seemed amused and thoroughly entertained.

“I think we should show Harry the Manor now, _Mother_ , you’ve made such an effort redecorating, it would be a waste not to show off all your hard work,” Draco said

He jumped to his feet. Harry caught the pleading look he shot his mother and felt entirely too gleeful when Narcissa Malfoy teased her son, making him blush even harder if that was at all possible.

“Should we? But we’re having such a nice conversation.”

“Mother!”

Narcissa Malfoy smirked and Harry smiled when she discreetly winked at him.

“All right, all right, just let me finish my tea,” she relented.

She finished off her tea, then rose to her feet and flicked her right wrist. Harry spotted the tip of her wand, that now rested in the palm of her hand and felt a wave of magic tingle over him as she cast a Stasis Charm over the table.

“Do follow me, Harry,” she said.

She walked towards the large French doors that led out of the winter gardens and back into the Manor. Her robes gently trailed behind her and her long hair swished from side to side as she gracefully floated out of the room. She stopped in the corridor and turned around.

“We’ll leave the grounds until spring; they are much nicer when it’s warmer. Besides the weather is utterly dreadful today. There’s no magic strong enough to improve this year’s winter.”

“Harry’s used to worse, Mother,” Draco squeaked and Harry silently took his hand.

“Ah, yes, I remember. Draco told me you spent a few years in Canada. How did you survive those arctic temperatures?”

“The Muggles over there have excellent heating systems. As a wizard, you get very good at all sorts of warming charms very quickly,” Harry said and squeezed Draco’s hand.

“I thought so. Well, let’s not delay our tour any longer, lest I displease my son any further.”

Narcissa Malfoy clapped her hands and headed down the corridor, leading them into what turned out to be the ballroom.

The decoration was exquisite and elaborate chandeliers hung from the charmed ceiling. The parquet floor was in perfect condition and Harry felt the sudden urge to pull Draco into his arms and spin him around the room.

He wasn’t surprised to learn that the floor had been charmed to entice guests to dance rather than mingle and he was grateful when Narcissa Malfoy ushered them through a different set of doors that let into a large formal drawing room that connected to both the entrance hall and a large library with a vast collection of books and plenty of comfortable sofas and armchairs dotted around the place as well as several rather old-fashioned writing desks with matching chairs.

From the library, they made their way into the formal banqueting room and Harry learnt that a long corridor and two flights of stairs connected it to the family breakfast room and the kitchens, scullery, pantry, and wine storage in the cellar.

They briefly visited the sunroom, then returned into the entrance hall and ascended the large grand staircase to the first floor which housed the state apartments. Their main function had been to offer accommodation to guests.

Narcissa Malfoy explained that she had repurposed several of the former bedchambers to create an art room, a second, larger library, and a Muggle-type gym which she’d included to entice Draco to move back home.

Harry couldn’t help laugh at that but found that his head spun with all the information, Draco’s mother volunteered about the stately Malfoy ancestral home. He was aware that she was only supplying him with the most interesting bits of information, instead of forcing him to endure a boring history lesson and he was immensely grateful to her for that.

When they reached the long gallery, Narcissa Malfoy fell quiet and Harry felt a bit like he was on display as they passed one portrait after another and Draco’s ancestors shot him curious looks.

However, and that was surprising, none of them commented on the fact that he and Draco were still holding hands and he wondered whether Narcissa had told the entire Malfoy family to keep their thoughts about her son’s choice of partner to themselves. He didn’t put it past her. Not only did she have an air of refined grace about her as she strode down the long broad corridor but she also emitted power.

Narcissa Malfoy, Harry decided, was the kind of woman one simply did not mess with. Stood next to her husband, she’d always appeared timid, shy, and spineless.

Lucius Malfoy had outshone her at any public appearance but with him serving a life sentence in Azkaban, Harry found himself forced to reevaluate his opinion of the woman who had given birth to the one man he had fallen head over heels in love with.

That night in the forest her reasons for helping him defeat Voldemort had been born out of selfishness and the desire to self-preserve but she had also acted out of love for her only son and try as he might, Harry could not find fault in that.

They eventually reached the upper landing and were about to ascend to the second floor to tour the family wing when an elf, Harry had not met before, appeared before them. It drew Harry right out of his thoughts.

“Mistress Malfoy, there’s a fire call for you,” the small elf squeaked.

“Oh? Who might be calling, Libby?”

“Lady Shrewsbury, Mistress.”

“Did she say what about? Never mind. Do tell her I’ll be right down.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Libby peeped and disappeared with a faint plop.

Narcissa Malfoy turned to face both Harry and Draco.

“I’m afraid I must leave you. Draco, darling, be a dear and show Harry the family rooms. We can meet in the winter garden afterwards and I shall endeavour to answer any questions about the Manor Harry might have if he does have any.”

Narcissa Malfoy did not bother to wait for an answer from either of them but Disapparated instead, leaving them both alone.

Once she’d left, Draco, who had so far been completely quiet, gave Harry a shy smile that was just a little out of character yet so utterly endearing that Harry couldn’t resist but pull him close. He let go of Draco’s hand, wrapped both arms around his waist and pulled him flush against his body.

Draco let out a soft yelp but gently brought his hands up to rest them on Harry’s shoulders and then surrendered to the kiss, Harry had spontaneously initiated.

Harry kept the kiss deliberately slow; he took his time teasing Draco’s lips with his own and only when he had successfully drawn a low moan from him, did he bring his tongue into the mix.

Draco’s hands slid to his biceps and he squeezed as though he was afraid that Harry might stop touching him any moment. Harry gently pried his mouth open with the tip of his tongue. He let his tongue slither inside and kissed him slowly, deeply, and passionately, repeatedly claiming every inch of his mouth.

He felt Draco’s struggle for oxygen but refused to break the kiss. Instead, he deepened it even further and thoroughly relished in the way Draco’s hold on his upper arms tightened and the way his knees buckled as he melted against him.

When he finally pulled away, he was a bit breathless and Draco looked at him with a completely dazed expression.

Lifting one hand, Harry caressed his cheeks and pressed his thumb to Draco’s swollen, wet lips.

“My little prince,” Harry whispered and felt the shudder that surged through Draco.

His lips trembled beneath Harry’s touch and he blinked as he tried to steady his ragged breathing.

“A beautiful home for a beautiful prince,” he praised.

“ _Ngh_.”

The sound rumbled low in Draco’s throat and bubbled out of him. It forced its way past his closed lips, vibrated off Harry’s thumb and Draco’s eyes slowly fluttered shut. Harry gave him a moment to regain his composure but did not let go of him.

The last hour and a half had been a bit torturous for Harry, who wasn’t accustomed to being so close to Draco but having to remain on his best behaviour. He had been surprised that Narcissa Malfoy had said nothing about them holding hands throughout the tour, although he had caught her glancing at their intertwined hands several times.

Much to his surprise, there had been no disgust or disapproval in her eyes — the only expression had been a warm smile.

Her grey-blue eyes had twinkled with a strange sort of amusement over their casual, yet the entirely open display of affection and Harry curiously wondered whether she had noticed that his fingers and his thumb always rested on top of Draco’s in an uninhibited way to assert his dominance.

If she’d noticed the power dynamics between them and how Draco seemed to perpetually trail half a step behind him, she hadn’t found it necessary to comment on or didn’t intend to say anything to either of them while the other one was around.

“Harry?”

Draco’s shy question pulled him out of his musings and he raised an eyebrow at him.

“Hm?”

“Would you like to see my old room?”

“Absolutely.”

Harry smiled.

He felt a bout of excitement bubble up inside of him at the prospect of seeing the part of the Manor, Draco had grown up in.

“It’s upstairs,” Draco said quietly and shuffling in his arms, he glanced up another grand staircase.

“Lead the way, my love.”

Draco nodded.

He reached for his hand and allowed Harry to curl his own fingers around it, then led him up the carpeted staircase to the second floor, or the family wing. He casually explained that in most Manors the first floor was usually the family wing while the second floor was for guests but that his great-grandfather hadn’t entertained the idea of anyone walking above his head and adjusted the Manor’s layout accordingly. After that change, nobody had ever bothered to switch back to the commonly accepted system and over the years it had become a peculiarity the Manor was famous for.

They walked up the staircase in silence, crossed through the upper part of the hall and walked down a small gallery.

“The left wing used to be Mother and Father’s private chambers but I think Mother moved most her personal belongings into one of the smaller bedrooms on the first floor. Growing up, I pretty much had the right wing all to myself.”

Draco spoke with a soft voice and flicking his wrist, he allowed his wand to fall into his hand, gripped it firmly and spelt the door in front of them open.

“I’ve not been up here in a while,” he said as the door swung open and he motioned for Harry to enter first.

They found themselves inside a large private drawing room of sorts, exquisitely maintained and with not a speck of dust in sight.

Row upon rows of books filled several massive bookshelves and across the room, a black grand piano took up a large portion of the room. To the left, a comfortable arrangement of sofas and armchairs made ample use of two large floor-length windows. The oval-shaped wall let Harry believe that that part of the house had once been part of a tower of sorts or perhaps still was, he hadn’t paid all that much attention to the exterior when they’d entered earlier.

“When— when he— I mean Voldemort— when he took over the Manor, I used to hide up here for days on end. I’d have one of the elves bring up food and I’d only come down when I absolutely couldn’t avoid showing my face or when Father forcefully dragged me down.”

“What did you do?” Harry asked curiously.

“I played the piano. Read. Daydreamt. Studied. Sat in my old nursery and wondered about the future, what would happen if he succeeded to, you know, kill you, though thankfully it didn’t come to that.”

Draco shrugged and before Harry could ask another question, he found himself dragged through a large set of double doors into another room with several massive windows.

The room was surprisingly bright with a massive four-poster bed made of ebony-coloured heavy wood to the left and a luxurious sitting area to the right.

A fluffy cream-coloured carpet covered most of the floor and heavy dark-green curtains framed each set of windows. Several doors let to what Harry guessed had once been Draco’s personal bathroom and his private wardrobe.

“I haven’t slept here in years.”

Draco whispered quietly, a shy confession Harry found utterly endearing, and when he pulled his hand away, Harry let him.

He watched as Draco headed over to the bed and touched his fingertips to the open curtains, trailing them over the heavy fabric. They were the same shade of green as the curtains by the windows and while the colour was decidedly Slytherin there was nothing ostentatious about it.

Harry took another look around the room, then walked up to Draco and sneaked his arms around his waist. He hugged him from behind and pulled him against his body, keeping him close.

Draco rested his hand against the bedpost and surrendered to his embrace, letting his head fall back onto his shoulder. Harry pressed a kiss to his bare neck and Draco whimpered softly.

“I— Normally— if I’d had any bro—brothers— all the boys of the family would share these chambers— it— they can be transformed into several private sleeping quarters— but— but because I was an only child I— I got—”

“You had the biggest indoor playground any child could ever wish for.”

Harry finished the sentence for him and hugged him tighter, relishing in the way Draco felt comfortable enough to just let him do that, even here at the Manor and in the middle of his old bedroom.

He gently nibbled at Draco’s earlobe, teasing the shell of it with his tongue and blowing hot breath over it.

“Harry, _please_ —” Draco murmured.

“Please what?” Harry whispered.

“Don’t tease like that, Mother— she— she is expecting us shortly.”

“Big house, easy to get lost in,” Harry said.

He slipped his hands under Draco’s jumper to caress the warm skin underneath with his fingertips, tickling Draco softly, teasing him.

“Harry— We’re— Apparition— We can— We’re wizards.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t have my wicked way with you, well not fully but maybe just a little.”

“ _Ngh_ , Harry.”

“Or is that what you want me to do? Did you ever fantasise about us— together— here in your bed— doing naughty things?”

“Harry!”

“I bet you did. I bet you had naughty dreams about me fucking you six ways from Sunday in that massive bed of course. Or maybe bend over the back of that sofa on the far side of the room? The floor? Hm, I’d love to push you down on the floor, spread your arse apart and force my cock into you while you moan into that fluffy carpet and beg me not to stop. Or did you imagine me taking you while you perched on the windowsill with your bare back pressed to the cold window and your legs spread wide for me, offering yourself up like a sweet dessert.”

“Harry— fuck— you— you can’t—”

“Can’t what, my love? Can’t torture you a bit after I found out you lied to your mother?”

Harry deliberately taunted him and Draco groaned.

“Harry— I— fuck— _please_!”

“Please what? What do you want, my little prince? Don’t tell me I was wrong about everything I said? Don’t tell me you fantasised about me taking you on top of the grand piano, charming it to produce beautiful melodies to drown out your incessant begging and your pleads for me to fuck you harder, take you and mercilessly plough into your loose hole, all slickened up with lube for me because we were such a good boy for me and prepared yourself after your bath and got yourself all ready for me to fuck you, didn’t you, my little prince? You’re good like that, aren’t you? You like pleasing your Sir just like that, don’t you?”

“Oh fuck— Harry, please— yes— oh sweet fucking Salazar— please—”

Draco whimpered and a desperate whiny moan left his throat as Harry bit down on his earlobe and suckled on it, conscious not to leave a mark in a place where Narcissa Malfoy would be able to see it.

He let one hand slip up Draco’s torso, grazed one of his nipples with his fingernail and enticed it to harden underneath his rough touch, then rolled it between his thumb and forefinger, before pulling at it. Draco hissed and Harry pulled harder, twisted the sensitive numb more.

“Naughty little prince—”

“Harry—”

“Shush, be quiet, I don’t want to hear you talk, I’m not finished with you, my little prince.”

Harry firmed his voice and spoke directly in Draco’s ear.

“Tell me, Draco, how many excuses did you give your mother for not bringing your boyfriend home to meet her? How many times did you tell her I was away on business or working overtime? How many fantastic lies did you tell her?”

He whispered all his naughty questions into Draco’s ear, letting his hot breath ghost over the sensitive skin. He let his other hand, which was not busy abusing Draco’s nipples, slip down to his crotch. There, he cupped Draco’s erection through his trousers and squeezed it, hard enough to make a statement, namely that he owned that cock and that Draco knew he did even though he hadn’t said so.

“Naughty boy, naughty little prince. You deserve a proper punishment for lying.”

Harry pulled away slightly and watched the way Draco’s lips parted as if he wanted to say something but the words seemingly remained stuck in his throat as he panted. Harry gave his already overstimulated nipple another tweak and rubbed his palm firmly against Draco’s hard cock.

“You just wait until I get you home, naughty devious little thing, you’ll be begging for your release before the night is up.”

Harry promised and massaged Draco’s erection for several moments, then stopped his assault on Draco’s neck, his nipples, and his cock.

He gently guided Draco’s free hand, which had been limply dangling at his side this whole time, to the bedpost, forced Draco to steady himself then stepped away and moved several feet back.

Draco swayed unsteadily for a few seconds, then caught himself and slowly turning around, he heavily leant against the bedpost and let out a low whine.

“How much time do we have?”

“Not more than ten minutes, I’d say.”

Draco exhaled shakily and Harry smiled deviously.

“Perfect. Unzip your trousers, my love.”

He watched as Draco’s eyes widened and his hands trembled at his sides and when he didn’t comply with the order, Harry arched an eyebrow at him and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I said unzip your—”

He didn’t have to finish that sentence a second time. Draco’s hands flew to his belt and he opened it, popped the button open and pulled the zipper down.

Harry smiled.

“Good boy. Now pull your cock out. I want to see that hard prick. I want to see you hold it in your hand, display it for me.”

Draco groaned but complied again. He reached inside his open trousers, reached inside his tight boxer briefs, and pulled his cock out, holding it in his hand. It was hard and long and thick and desperate for relief.

Harry mumbled a spell to slicken Draco’s hand with lube and heard him gasp.

“Stroke yourself. Up and down, slowly. Just a bit of teasing, don’t you get any ideas now, I’m not above pushing you over the foot of your bed and dishing out a hard spanking, one that will turn sitting down at the table in the winter garden into a proper chore for you and a delight for me.”

Draco whimpered but followed his order and stroked himself. The movement of his hand was slow and deliberate and it was nowhere near enough to give him the friction he needed to bring himself off.

“Harry—” Draco whispered; the desperation evident in his eyes.

“Keep stroking, and keep those eyes open. I want you to look at me as you stroke your precious cock for me, my love.”

Draco moaned and Harry gave him two full minutes before he told him to increase the speed of his strokes. Draco stroked himself harder, his hand flying up and down his long shaft with ruthless speed and his eyelids fluttered as he struggled to keep them open.

“Open your eyes,” Harry reminded him and Draco instantly snapped them open.

Harry let another few minutes pass and when he sensed that Draco was reaching the point of no return, he moved closer and placed his hand on top of Draco’s, preventing it from finishing the job.

Draco let out an agonising whimper in immediate protest and Harry leant in to capture his mouth in a hard kiss. He sucked Draco’s tongue into his mouth, then bit down on it before pulling away.

After that, Harry removed Draco’s hand from his cock, murmured a cleaning charm to remove any and all traces of the slick conjured lube and another spell that vanished Draco’s underwear.

“Tuck yourself in and zip up your trousers, but be careful, you wouldn’t want to accidentally catch your cock inside your zipper.”

Draco didn’t immediately react but stared at him with big disbelieving eyes.

“You vanished my underwear,” he stated the obvious.

Harry smiled.

“Yes, I did, and I should like to make you wear a butt plug too, however, I didn’t bring one, which, I assure you, I sorely regret. You were a naughty boy, Draco, a very naughty boy. You lied to your mother about the reason for my absence and I’m pretty sure you did it more than once. Naughty boys like you don’t get to wear underwear. Naughty boys like you will find themselves put over my knee when we get home, begging for a spanking and I promise you, you will be on your knees and begging me for it.”

Draco’s mouth fell open but no actual words of protest left his mouth.

“You heard me. You’ll be asking me for your punishment when we get home tonight, my love. You’re going to tell me why you deserve it and how I should punish you. Lying is such a devious thing to do, don’t you think so, my little prince? It’s that or you won’t get to come until you ask for what you know you deserve and we both know that I have more patience to keep you on the edge than you do to stay there.”

“You devil.”

“Such a sweet compliment.”

Harry smiled and carefully helped Draco, whose hands trembled horribly, to tuck himself in, rearrange himself and do up his trousers. He cast a wandless refreshing charm on Draco, who let out a relieved little sigh.

“I think it’s time we see if your mother has finished her fire call. It would be rude to leave the Lady of the House waiting, don’t you think so, my love?”

Draco didn’t manage much more than a feeble nod and Harry intertwined their hands.

“Take us back downstairs, my little prince.”

They silently left Draco’s private chambers and headed for the grand staircase but instead of walking down the steps, Draco turned and looked at Harry with such a bashful flush to his cheeks that Harry enveloped him in a tight embrace and snogged all the oxygen out of him.

When he broke away, Draco needed several minutes to gather his wits and once he had he sheepishly looked at Harry from under lowered lashes.

“Can I make a little boyfriend to boyfriend request?” he asked and with a smile, Harry inclined his head.

“Anything.”

A full minute passed before Draco finally asked his question, one that made Harry laugh loudly and heartily because it was silly and cute and completely un-Draco.

“Can we chase each other down the halls?”

Draco blushed a delightful shade of deep pink and letting go of his hand, Harry pinned his emerald-green eyes on him, making Draco swallow hard.

“Run, my little prince, run,” he growled and as if to prove a point, he squeezed Draco’s side, causing him to yelp.

Not needing a second invitation, Draco turned on his heel and dashed down the stairs with Harry hot on his heels. They were evenly matched but Harry deliberately held back, drawing out their silly little game as he chased Draco through one long corridor after another of his childhood home.

By the time they arrived back in the winter garden they were breathless and panting for air. Draco heavily leant against his wicker chair and Harry bent forward and placed his hands just above his knees while he gulped down large breaths of warm air.

Narcissa Malfoy looked back and forth between them with an amused expression and after a moment or two, she burst into unrestrained laughter.

“Ah, young love, how beautiful,” she said.

As he tried to regulate his breathing, Harry watched her reach for a small chocolate brownie, slice it into four pieces with a knife and eat one.

Several minutes, filled with Narcissa Malfoy’s amused chuckles and Harry’s and Draco’s highly irregular panting, ticked by.

Eventually, Harry managed to calm down enough to take a seat and Draco followed suit.

“Your Father would have never condoned that sort of childish behaviour; however, I am more than happy for you to indulge in it completely, Draco. Seeing you this happy makes my heart jump pleasantly.”

“Feel free to join us, Mother.”

Draco grinned and Harry watched as Narcissa Malfoy rolled her eyes at him.

“I am more than happy to remain a spectator for this, my dear,” she said then turned to look at Harry. “May I assume I will be seeing more of you in the future, Harry?” she asked.

“If I am welcome, I would love to make tea with you and Draco a regular occurrence, Mrs Malfoy,” Harry said with no hesitation at all.

He was more than happy to accompany Draco and spend time with Narcissa Malfoy, who he had decided was quite an intriguing personality and his curiosity pushed him to want to learn more about the woman who had risked her life for him so many years ago.

“I think you should call me Narcissa, Harry. Mrs Malfoy sounds all too serious, don’t you think?”

“Narcissa I shall call you.”

Harry smiled and reaching out he took Draco’s hand, pulled it to rest on top of the wicker table and squeezed it.

“Draco turned into a fine man with a heart of gold, a love for animals and an amazing sense of humour. I love him very much and I promise you, I will always take good care of him.”

“Thank you, Harry. All I want is for my son to be happy if you can promise me to keep him happy, I shall worry less about him, even if he works entirely too hard.”

“Mother! I’m not five, I’m a grown man.”

Draco objected and Harry squeezed his hand a little firmer, silently appeasing him.

“She loves you, Draco,” he said quietly.

“She needn’t worry so much; I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can, Draco, but sometimes it’s nice to let someone else take care of you for a while. I think Harry here is the right person to do that. Keep him close unless you want to unleash the wrath of a mother.”

“I assure you I have no desire to do so,” Draco muttered, reached for a clean teacup, and filled it with hot black tea which he drank without sugar or milk but a slice of lemon.


	47. A Kinky Christmas Present

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ho-ho-ho, Christmas in June — here's something new. *puts up garlands and Christmas tree* Anyone want some mulled wine? I make the best (apparently, or so I have been told)!  
> I promise, I've kept the Christmas traditions down to a minimum and there are no cheesy Christmas tunes playing in any shopping centre anywhere.  
> Some gift-giving does happen and it's **very** important to the plot.
> 
> Once again, I would just like to say if you're going to choke on your food or drink, I take no responsibility — **_seriously, you have been warned!_**
> 
> This especially applies to those of you who I know get sucked right into the story. I expect nothing coherent from my wifey, my coffee bean and my Katie Kat.
> 
> A few others will probably just blankly stare at the screen and later tell me that they did just that (I have a few usernames in mind...*grin*).
> 
> If you'd like to book an appointment with Harry and his XXXXXXX (censored so as to not spoil the chapter but yes, it's a seven-letter word), let me know. He has nominated me as his secretary and Draco has requested that he's allowed to watch, otherwise Harry will not be allowed to dominate you.
> 
> My dearest **K** , you've waited so long for this chapter and it's going to turn you upside down all over again. I just know it. I'm so looking forward to it. I know, I've gifted the whole story to you but at this point I'd just like to give you another shout-out, because I can, because I want to. Thanks for your guidance, your firm hand, and your unfaltering support throughout the creation of what you consider to be my Masterpiece. You're setting the bar really high, Sir, I'm afraid I'll struggle to produce anything to match this. <3
> 
> With today's chapter I would love to share my favourite Dom/sub poem with you, I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. To me it screams Draco's submission to Harry in this story and personally it also means a lot to me. You can find it at the end of the chapter.
> 
> Love,  
> Selly x

* * *

“Finally, an evening alone together,” Draco said as he walked out of the large en-suite bathroom and into the bedroom.

Harry lowered his book and watched Draco unceremoniously flop down on the bed beside him, lying flat on his back but turning his head to the side to be able to look up at him. His beautiful silvery-grey eyes sparkled and a faint smile ghosted around the corners of his mouth, tugging them upward.

The pose ignited something inside Harry and much to his delight, Draco hadn’t bothered to put his pyjamas on but had merely fastened a fluffy white towel around his hips. He looked truly delectable and Harry wanted to devour him. He wanted to own him, possess him, and never let him go.

They’d spent Christmas and the days around it visiting family and friends and attending a fair few Ministry functions. Harry hadn’t wanted to go to any of them but Shacklebolt hadn’t given him much of a choice — being the newly-named Head of the Auror Department came with an entirely new set of responsibilities, most of which Harry wanted nothing to do with but couldn’t ignore.

Still, Dom or no Dom, when the Minister for Magic expected you to make an appearance at an important celebration you didn’t have much of a choice but to show your face.

Draco had graciously volunteered to accompany him to every single event and while it had been good to have him around and had softened the blow considerably, it had meant that between official Ministry gatherings and private celebrations they hadn’t had much time for each other.

Somehow, with their relationship no longer a secret, everyone wanted a piece of them and it was getting harder and harder to fight off the vultures.

Tonight, was the first night in nearly a fortnight that they were able to stay home and lounge around the house, which they’d absolutely done.

Harry had blocked the Floo, Draco had cooked them a mouth-watering three-course meal — Harry had offered to help but Draco had quite pointedly tossed him out of the kitchen — and they’d relaxed in front of the television, curled up together on the sofa, in the living room with biscuits and tea.

Not bothering with a bookmark, Harry, suddenly thoroughly uninterested in continuing to read, snapped the book closed and placed it on his nightstand, then rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow.

He drank in the sight of Draco’s long lithe body, provocatively sprawled out beside him, and as he licked his lips, he rather regretted having put on a pair of pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt after his shower. He could feel himself getting hard and while his sleepwear wasn’t tight it was still restrictive and he wanted it gone. A wandless spell was all it would take but Harry resisted the temptation, for now.

Up until a few minutes ago, falling asleep spooned around Draco’s body, warm, loose-limbed, and relaxed from his nearly hour-long bath, had been the only thing on his mind.

Now his thoughts were rapidly filling with several shockingly devious ideas and he fervently hoped that Draco was in the mood to fool around for a while before they turned in for the night. After all, it wasn’t all that late yet.

 _Perfect time to let you unwrap one last Christmas present, my little prince_ , Harry mused.

They’d exchanged gifts at the Burrow on Christmas Day Morning but he had saved one last gift for Draco to open once they were alone together and had a bit of time on their hands. Tonight, seemed like a suitable time to surprise Draco with something special.

“Lose the towel, my love,” Harry said huskily.

He was entirely unable to resist the desire to have Draco completely naked, sprawled out beside and while he usually managed to at least make Draco believe that he had an endless amount of patience, he was mildly struggling to do so now.

His soft-spoken order had the desired effect on Draco, whose eyes instantly darkened several shades. His cheeks flushed and he blinked and when he opened his mouth to say something, Harry shook his head, silencing him with a simple gesture before he’d even uttered the first syllable of whatever he’d been about to say.

“Lose the towel,” Harry repeated.

Draco swallowed and Harry watched as he slowly moved his hand to the edge of the towel and pulled it off his hips. He had to raise them up to accomplish the task but managed, then carelessly dropped the towel onto the floor beside the bed. He attempted to roll onto his side but Harry quickly pressed his hand to Draco’s chest and stopped him.

Purposefully keeping his voice low, he said, “no, my love, just like that, I want you on your back, for now, let me look at you, let me get drunk on your gorgeousness. You’re so beautiful, so divine, I love you.”

A sweet little whimper escaped Draco’s parted lips and he curled his fingers around the cover of the duvet, then twisted them into the fabric and grasped it tightly.

“Enchanting, you are absolutely stunning. I love when you are naked for me. This is just for me. Nobody else gets to see this, nobody else gets to touch you. Only me. You’re mine.”

“Harry—”

“Hm?”

Harry trailed a single finger up and down Draco’s upper arm and felt him shudder beneath his innocent caress.

“So beautiful. You are so beautiful,” he continued to praise, thoroughly enjoying the way Draco flushed at hearing his words.

He stroked the tip of his finger along Draco’s forearm and when he slowly drew a circle on the back of his hand, Draco relaxed his grasp and let go of the duvet cover.

It was the sweetest form of surrender.

It was unforced.  
  
It was natural.

Harry hadn’t asked for it and that’s what made it so special. His chest swelled with pride and admiration over how far he and Draco had come.

Harry sat up and let his eyes trail over Draco’s body, deliberately taking his time to slowly sweep over every inch of him. Draco’s flushed cheeks gave him a somewhat bashful appearance and Harry sensed that he was just a little self-conscious about being on display like this. He offered assurances as he continued to drink in the sight before him.

“It’s just me looking at you, my love, I would never let anyone else see you like this, you’re far too precious for that, my little prince.”

Draco whimpered and his eyelids fluttered but he didn’t close them just yet.

“I wish I could keep you naked all the time. Oh, what pleasure it would give me to see your beautiful pale skin all day every day. It would be a dream come true. Hm, who knows, maybe one day. Some dreams do have a way of coming true.”

Draco let out a low moan and licked his lips and just like that his shyness dissipated. It was, at once, replaced with anticipation and desire and it turned Harry on even more. Not that it took much to accomplish that where Draco was concerned. One look was usually enough.

Harry moved to lean over Draco and captured his lips in a slow, teasing kiss. He slowly ran a fingertip from his ear along his jawline and down his throat and the centre of his chest, over his stomach right down to the fine dusting of light-blond hair that curled at the base of Draco’s by now half-hard cock. When he stopped right there, Draco let out a small protesting whimper and Harry watched as his legs fell open and he shamelessly offered himself up.

“Yours, Sir,” he whispered as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

At hearing those words, Harry’s cock twitched excitedly in his pyjama bottoms. He growled lowly and fought against the strong temptation to sink his teeth into Draco’s thigh. He wanted to bite him hard, wanted to leave his toothmarks behind. He also wanted to suck until Draco’s skin turned a deep shade of purple and he had a mark on him that would remind him of Harry for days to come.

“Tell me, my little prince, would you like another Christmas present? I may have saved up a little something special for you.”

“Yes, please, Sir.”

“Such a well-mannered little prince, I can’t deny you anything when you’re being this good,” Harry praised with a smile and shuffling a little, he bent over his side of the bed and pulled the bottom drawer of his nightstand open.

He took out a rectangular box wrapped in thick, dark green wrapping paper and with an elaborate silver flower bow which decorated its centre.

Harry waited for Draco to sit up before handing him the gift box.

Draco accepted it with a bit of hesitation and an excited glint in his pewter eyes.

“What’s inside?” he asked curiously.

He shook the box from side to side and frowned when he heard nothing.

“Open it and you’ll know.”

Draco stalled for another minute, then slowly separated the bow from the wrapping paper. He placed it on the nightstand next to him, then carefully removed the gift wrap and placed that on the nightstand too. Left with a black gift box, Draco dithered for another few moments, then finally lifted the lid up.

His mouth instantly dropped open and Harry chuckled.

He stared at the gift inside the box for the longest time, then slowly traced his fingertips over it, almost as if he was afraid that the gift might disappear if he touched it. It was beautiful to watch and his hesitation and shy curiosity, written all over his face, turned Harry on even more.

“As requested, it’s brand-new. It’s never been used for its intended purpose or any other possibly somewhat inappropriate purposes.”

Draco bit the corner of his bottom lip and pulled it into his mouth, worrying it, and Harry gave him a moment to acquaint himself with his present. The look on Draco’s face told Harry that he hadn’t expected to receive such a gift, however, his silvery-grey eyes had lost none of that intense desire they’d sparkled with several moments ago when Harry had told him to lose the towel.

“I almost forgot about this,” Draco whispered.

He hesitatingly wrapped his fingers around the handle of the wooden spatula that lay inside the box on top of a thick layer of a fluffy cushioning.

“I didn’t, in fact, I will admit that I thought about it quite a lot,” Harry said and reaching out, he placed his hand on top of Draco’s and squeezed.

Their eyes locked and the hunger that shone in Draco’s eyes made Harry want to pounce on him. He wanted to possess him and it took him a great deal of self-restraint to stop himself from giving in to the urge.

“Tell me, my little prince, are you tired or do you want to play for a little while? Would you like to try out your new toy? Get a feel for it, perhaps? Feel it dance over your arse as I turn slowly turn it red and repeatedly make it sting and throb.”

Draco let out a low moan and answered without hesitation.

“Yes, Sir.”

Loosening his hold on the spatula, he pulled his hand away, effectively handing the reins over to Harry, which he appreciated endlessly. It was yet another innocent gesture of surrender, a subtle exchange of power and when it came to Draco, Harry absolutely lived for those.

He grasped the smooth wooden handle firmly and watched as Draco put the lid back onto the empty box and placed it on the nightstand. His hand was shaking and reaching for it, Harry squeezed it.

“Remember, my little prince, you have a safeword that you can use any time you want,” he reassured.

Draco nodded.

“I know.”

“I know you do, but it helps to remind you. Now, tell me, my little prince, do you trust me?”

“Yes, Harry, I trust you.”

“Then relax, let me make you feel good, let me give you what you want, my love.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Draco’s breathless response drove Harry beyond wild and letting go of his hand, he cupped his chin and leant in for a searing hot kiss. He plunged his tongue into Draco’s mouth, wound it around its counterpart and poured all his love and desire into the kiss.

As their passionate soul kiss progressed, Harry slowly eased Draco back until he rested against the pillows behind him. Only then did Harry break away from their fervent lip lock and as he did, Draco’s eyes snapped open and he stared at him.

“Will you put your hands above your head and hold on to the headboard for me?”

Draco nodded and he slowly moved his hands. His fingers curled around the wooden headboard of Harry’s bed and he swallowed hard, looking both nervous and excited.

“Merlin, Draco, you are beautiful. You take my breath away, my love,” Harry murmured and unable to resist the temptation, he kissed him again.

 _If only you knew what it means to me that you let me do this to you_ , he thought, vowing to repeatedly tell Draco that his submission meant the world to him. He knew that Draco knew but he wanted to remind him, often and when Draco least expected to hear that sort of praise. He wanted to whisper the words into Draco’s ear and he wanted to write them down. Draco’s surrender was a precious gift and he needed Draco to always remember that he would never take it for granted.

“You’re mine.”

“Yes, Sir, I’m yours.”

Shuffling into a kneeling position, Harry sat back on his haunches and holding Draco’s gaze, he toyed with the wooden spatula. He twisted and twirled it in his hands but never touched any part of Draco’s body with it.

Several minutes passed and a low mewl escaped past Draco’s slightly parted lips and his cheeks flushed a lovely shade of deep pink. His chest rose and fell rapidly and he struggled to conceal his arousal.

“Please, Sir.”

The excitedly whispered plea sparked something utterly primal in Harry, who suddenly wanted nothing more than to manhandle Draco until he had him sprawled out over his thighs with his pale buttocks on display and easily accessible.

He wanted to conjure up a set of ropes to tie his wrists together and another to tie his ankles and then he wanted to bring that spatula down on Draco’s buttocks and the back of his thighs until they throbbed and thrummed and were no longer pale but a deep shade of red. He wanted to hear Draco’s moans every time the wood connected with his fair skin, he wanted to hear him scream and buck and ask for _more, more, more_.

But instead of doing any of that, Harry merely teased the tip of the spatula’s flat wooden surface along the inside of Draco’s upper arm.

Draco’s eyes followed the movement of the spatula and he sucked in a sharp breath.

Harry smiled and began to tease him in earnest.

He slowly ran the spatula up and down Draco’s arms, along the side of his neck and over his chest. He rubbed it over Draco’s pert nipples, pressed and pushed the tip of the broad wooden blade against the sensitive nubs and delighted in the way Draco’s panting became increasingly ragged. He ran the spatula over Draco’s sides and the outside of his thighs and as he did, Draco’s legs to fell open again and Harry teased the inside of his thighs.

Draco’s cock was fully hard and it stood proudly, twitching excitedly whenever Harry touched an extremely sensitive spot. He rubbed the flat surface of the spatula along Draco’s erection and drew several desperate moans from the depths of his throat.

“ _Ngh_ , Harry, Sir, please.”

“What do you want, my little prince?”

“Please touch me.”

“I am touching you. I have been touching you this whole time, or haven’t I?”

“ _Ngh_ , Sir, please, your hands, your mouth, your lips. Anything, _please_.”

Harry smiled.

He loved hearing the desperation in Draco’s voice, loved how thick with desire and need it was. He was begging and it was beautiful. It was music to Harry’s ears and he wanted more.

“No, my love. You can have your gift or you can have nothing. The choice is yours.”

“Fuck, Harry, please, whatever you do, don’t stop, Sir.”

“That all depends on how good you are, my little prince. If you continue to—”

“I’ll be good for you, Sir, I promise. I’ll be so, so, so good.”

“Will you now?” Harry asked.

Draco’s frantic pledge to be a good boy told him exactly how much he wanted this, how much he needed for Harry to take things further, to add more spice to the evening.

“I—”

Draco’s words caught in his throat and he blinked and swallowed hard.

“Yes, Sir, I’ll be good. I promise.”

The conviction in his voice and the pleading look in his eyes had Harry fighting for composure and he was once again glad that he was still wearing the charmed protective dragon pendant, Charlie had made for him.

With Draco, it was simply too easy to lose control and he had no desire to experience that. The last thing he wanted was to scare Draco and potentially ruin the beautiful thing they were still building together and would hopefully continue to build for a long time.

“You’re always such a good boy for me, aren’t you, my little prince?”

“Yes, Sir,” Draco whispered.

Harry smirked.

He decided to tease a little more. He wanted to draw out the game, wanted Draco to want it badly.

“If you’re always so good then I’m not sure you really need this spatula.”

“I—”

“Tell me, my love.”

“I— Please, Sir. I _need_ it.”

“How much do you need it?”

Draco flushed anew.

His whiny and continued pleas sent wave after wave of arousal flowing through Harry.

“A lot, Sir, please,” he whispered, breathlessly. “Please let me have it. Please, please, please.”

Watching and listening to Draco begging him for a spanking with his new toy felt like a dose of pure ecstasy and Harry thoroughly delighted in the fact that he had the ability to reduce Draco to this, that Draco wanted for him to reduce him to a desperate, pleading pile of goo.

“Get on your hands and knees for me, my little prince,” Harry said, his voice still low, soft, and gentle.

It took Draco a moment to gather himself but he did. He slowly moved into the desired position and running the spatula’s handle up and down the centre of Draco’s back, right along his spine, Harry teased him relentlessly. He let the handle slip between Draco’s buttocks and rubbed it along his perineum, teased his cock, then abruptly pulled away to rub the blade over those delicious pale cheeks, down the back of his thighs, along his calves and over the soles of his feet.

As he moved back up, Harry tapped the spatula lightly against Draco’s feet, his calves, the back of his thighs, his buttocks and his back, his sides and eventually his arms.

Draco shivered and shuddered and let out series of low moans and desperate little please for more.

“Brace your head on your arms, my love. I want you to show me that beautiful arse of yours, I want you to push it right up in the air, let me see those gorgeous firm pale cheeks,” Harry murmured.

He watched with admiration as Draco’s arms folded and he lowered his head to rest on his forearms, effectively raising his posterior higher into the air. Harry wanted to squeeze and massage the firm pale flesh with both his hands but he held himself back. He’d told Draco that he wouldn’t touch him with his hands and he wasn’t about to break that rule just yet.

“My little prince, tell me what you want. Tell me what you need.”

“I— I want— I need— Harry, please— Sir, spank me, please.”

“My little prince, beg for it, you can do so much better. Let me hear you, tell me how much you need it.”

Draco hesitated for a bit and sensing his mild trepidation over having to shamelessly beg for a spanking, Harry shuffled and bracing himself on his arms, he pressed his mouth to Draco’s warm ear, caressing the shell of it with his hot breath and deliberately lingering for a little longer than strictly necessary.

“It’s only you and me, my love, don’t be embarrassed. I love hearing you beg, it’s so beautiful and you do it so well. In fact, you’ve already done it tonight and I want a little more. Let me hear you, my little prince. Let me hear you tell me what you want, come on, don’t be shy now.”

His words clearly broke down a barrier inside of Draco’s mind. He let out a low whine and Harry barely had the time to sit back on his haunches before Draco’s desperate pleas started to fill the bedroom.

He nearly sobbed as he asked for what he wanted and for a moment Harry wanted to abandon spanking him altogether. He wanted to fuck him so badly. He wanted to sink his cock deep into Draco’s hot, tight arse and ruin him. He wanted to plunge into him, fuck him open until he screamed in pain and delight and until he was unable to hold himself together and splashed his hot come all over the bed, wetting it with thick rope after rope of his release.

“Sir, please, please, please, _please_ , I need you to spank me, please. Please, I want to feel that spatula on my arse, please, Sir, _please_.”

“With pleasure, my little prince.”

Harry ran the spatula over Draco’s arse, letting the wooden blade tease his smooth skin. He occasionally ran the rounded tip along the crack between Draco’s buttocks but never let it slip deep enough to rub against his hole and when Draco attempted to push back, he stopped touching him altogether.

“ _Ngh_ , Sir, please.”

“Please what, my love?” Harry asked.

He pressed the flat blade of the spatula to Draco’s right buttock.

Draco mewled.

“Want me to turn that lovely arse of yours red, my little prince?”

“Yes, please, fuck, yes, yes, please, _yes_.”

“Tsk, tsk, we haven’t even started and you’re cursing already… It isn’t the first time either, one more and I may have to turn this into a proper punishment after all.”

Harry chuckled softly and adjusting his grip on the handle, he delivered the first blow. It wasn’t an especially hard smack but it was firm enough to draw Draco’s attention to it.

“Like that?”

“Yes, Sir, please, more.”

The whispered plea was music to Harry’s ears and he delivered three blows in rapid succession, all of them as firm as the first one.

Draco keened.

“Please,” he panted.

“Patience, my little prince,” Harry said and rubbed the spatula over the area he had just smacked four times, then delivered another two blows. He paused for several seconds, then delivered three blows, slowly counted to four, then delivered another three blows. He kept going until he reached fifteen blows. With each set of three, he made sure to hit a different area and Draco moaned continuously. He made the most delightful sounds as he clearly basked in the pleasure of the light throbbing that followed each blow.

“Are you enjoying yourself, my little prince?”

“ _Ngh_ , yes, Sir, yes, please don’t stop, _please_.”

“You’re such a greedy boy tonight. I think you’re enjoying this way too much, my love.”

Harry delivered a few more blows but this time he didn’t stick to a set pattern.

Instead, he kept Draco guessing about when and where the next blow would land.

The benefit of an irregular rhythm was that Draco’s never-ending little moans and sighs, his panted pleas and delightful yelps filled the bedroom and Harry lost himself in the beautiful melody of it all.

He alternated between smacking Draco’s left and right buttock and even directed a few random blows to the back of those firm thighs, then, quite unexpectedly so, delivered a decidedly hard blow to Draco’s right buttock.

“ _Ngh_ , ow, _fuck_ ,” Draco moaned and buried his face in his folded arms. His entire body shuddered in the aftermath of the sting and not allowing him to come down fully, Harry delivered yet another blow. This one was equally as hard and while he felt the strong desire to hit the same spot again to prolong that first sting, he refrained.

“ _Ngh_ , fuck, Harry— Sir, _ngh_!”

Draco continued to tremble and shake as he tried to ride out the throbbing pain. He was clearly having difficulties and a wretched sob escaped him and he clutched at the duvet cover, twisting his fingers into the fabric to ground himself.

“OK, my love?” Harry asked and reached out to place his hand on Draco’s shoulder. He squeezed gently, offering physical support for the first time since they’d started this.

“I’m OK, just— that— it— _ngh_.”

Failing to coherently express himself, Draco trailed off.

“Hurt?” Harry offered.

“Yes, yes, yes, _ngh_. Hurt. A lot.”

“Do you want more or less of that?”

Draco lifted his head a little and turned it sideways to look at him with watery eyes. His flushed cheeks were delectable and Harry wanted to suck and nibble on his parted lips, which were still swollen and wet from their earlier kissing. Draco’s eyes were dark and he looked dazed but not thoroughly gone yet. Still, experience told Harry that he wasn’t far away from slipping off into subspace. As their eyes locked, a fresh wave of colour made Draco blush crimson-red.

“More, please,” he breathed.

Draco’s plea was so quiet that Harry nearly missed it.

His heart skipped a beat and a wave of praise fell from his lips. In the short time that had passed since Draco had given into his desire to fully explore his submissive side, he’d gone from disliking pain completely to craving a certain amount of it and the threshold of the level of pain he could take or wanted was gradually increasing.

While Harry didn’t think Draco would ever turn into a hardcore masochist, he could tell that Draco was thoroughly enjoying himself. The more he did, the more pleasure and excitement Harry felt running through him and unable to help himself he delivered another hard blow that forced Draco to inhale sharply.

He let out a low groan and his entire body shuddered as he rode out the fresh wave of pain that rolled through him, reigniting the dull throbbing of the previous blows.

Harry let his fingers trail down Draco’s spine and he rubbed his reddened buttocks gently, prolonging the sweet sting of pain for another few seconds.

“More, please, Sir,” Draco whispered a few moments later.

His second plea surprised Harry somewhat. He was sure that Draco was nearing his limit and he was rather hesitant to give him any more pain.

“Are you sure, my love?” he asked.

“Yes, Sir, please.”

Draco’s response was unwavering and his gaze was now steady. He sounded so earnest that Harry felt himself give in.

“Sweet Circe, you have no idea what you’re doing to my sanity right now,” Harry murmured and ran his fingers through Draco’s soft blond hair, tenderly caressing the sensitive scalp beneath.

He was rock hard and desperate for release but he wanted to make this good for Draco, wanted to give him exactly what he wanted.

“Please, let me have a little more,” Draco breathed.

Harry closed his eyes and in a pathetic attempt to compose himself, he inhaled deeply. At this stage, he wasn’t very hopeful that he would manage to successfully do so for much longer. He wanted Draco and he wanted him badly.

 _If you ask again, I will lose it and come untouched_ , he thought and pressed the palm of his hand to his crotch. He squeezed his cock through his pyjama bottoms to try and calm his own excitement.

“Can you take another six strikes, my little prince?”

“I— I don’t know— I want— let me— let me try, please, Sir.”

“I will, but I want you to count each blow, my love. Can you do that for me? It’ll give you something to focus on.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Harry smiled.

“Good boy, I’m so proud of you. You’re doing so well.”

He ran his fingers through Draco’s hair and down the length of his spine, shuffled a little and tightening his hold on the spatula’s handle, Harry tested the swing of his wrist, then delivered the first strike. It was just a little harder than before and Draco shuddered and groaned.

“One,” he breathed.

Harry rubbed the sore spot on his arse, drawing a long moan out of Draco.

“My brave little prince, you’re doing great, you are amazing. Are you ready for another one?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Harry counted to three then struck a different area of Draco’s arse.

Draco gasped and let out a low muffled groan. A few tears spilt down his cheeks and he pressed his lips tightly together to suppress a sob but wasn’t entirely successful.

“ _Ngh_ , two, ow.”

Harry kept the next two blows light, well lighter than the last few but purposefully chose a spot that was already a nice shade of red and Draco yelped and panted as he struggled to take it. It took him several moments before he had composed himself enough to call out the number of strikes.

“Three and four,” he said with a shudder and whimpered.

“Hm, I think you had enough for one night,” Harry said softly and caressed Draco’s cheek. It was wet and tear-stained and Harry cleared the remnants of Draco’s tears away with his thumb.

“No, Sir, I can do this, please.”

Harry remained firm.

“ _Enough_ , my love.”

Draco’s eyes flew open and he pleaded with an imploring gaze.

“I won’t disappoint you, Harry. I can take two more.”

“Oh, Draco. I am not disappointed, never that. I’m so proud of you. You are so brave and so beautiful, but this is new to you and we don’t need to push your boundaries more than we already have.”

“Please.”

Harry shook his head.

“No, my little prince, listen to me, I know what’s best for you. It’s easy to lose yourself in the pleasure of the pain but your arse is already gleaming red. We don’t need to break your new toy right on the first night. We can play with it whenever you like.”

“It won’t break,” Draco replied stubbornly.

Harry chuckled.

“Perhaps not, but your arse might, my love, and I’m quite partial to not letting that happen. I rather like your arse; I like those firm cheeks and the way I can pull them apart to reveal your tight little hole which always flutters so wantonly when you know that I’m looking at you and it. I like your arse pale and I like it red, it’s stunningly gorgeous.”

Harry placed the spatula on the bed and gently caressed Draco’s flaming red buttocks and his pinked thighs with both his hands. He alternated between massaging the tender flesh and rubbing his palms over it in circles that started big and steadily grew smaller. Draco moaned and whimpered and his entire body shook as he lost himself in the tiny stings of pain from the massage.

“There, I don’t need a spatula to give you a little more pain, if that’s what you so desperately desire tonight. I wish you could see yourself right now. That gorgeous behind of yours is positively sparkling red, you’re going to feel this tomorrow, I think.”

Harry mumbled the incantation to a special variation of the Bluebell Flames charm; he had previously used on Draco for an entirely different purpose. Now his touch provided instant relief and Draco’s moans and whimpers slowly turned into small sighs and shaky breaths as the throbbing in his arse slowly eased off a little.

“Feeling better, my love?” Harry asked.

Draco lazily opened his eyes and blinked a few times before he focused on him.

“Yes. Thank you, Sir.”

“It’s my pleasure, my little prince, making you feel good will always be the single most important thing to me, no matter what we do, remember that.”

Harry smiled and gently persuaded Draco to lie on his back.

While Draco sluggishly attempted to obey and hissed when his sore buttocks pressed into the mattress, Harry divested himself off his pyjama bottoms and sighed when his cock bobbed freely and without any restraint.

Draco’s eyes immediately gravitated towards it.

His own erection had waned a little and his cock was presently half hard and resting against his thigh.

Harry palmed his cock a few times and moaned. He moved to straddle Draco’s chest and ran his hands along his arms, gently moving them up and above his head. He pinned them into the pillow beneath Draco’s head and leant down to capture his lips in a slow, teasing kiss to distract him from the dull throbbing ache in his arse.

He gradually deepened the kiss, nibbled, and sucked at those luscious red lips and then slithered his tongue into Draco’s mouth and stroked every inch of its counterpart. Draco moved in unison with him but never once took charge of the kiss and by the time they parted they were both breathless and Harry needed a minute to compose himself.

“Can you even imagine how absolutely hot you are when you submit to me, my love? Do you know how much of a turn on it is to listen to you beg me to spank you and then ask for more once you’ve already taken a good few blows? I’ve been so fucking hard since you unwrapped your present,” Harry whispered.

“I need relief and I need it desperately. Will you help me and make me feel good, my precious little prince?”

Draco inhaled sharply and Harry felt his chest rise and fall rapidly as he attempted to fill his lungs with enough oxygen. His eyes glazed over and he looked up at Harry with a dreamy expression.

“Use me for your pleasure, Sir, I’m yours,” he whispered.

Harry growled.

He couldn’t decide whether he wanted to fuck Draco so hard that they broke the bed or fuck his mouth until Draco choked on his come. Both options were equally as alluring and he leisurely stroked his cock to give himself some relief.

“Fuck, Draco.”

Harry couldn’t bring himself to be more articulate. He didn’t have any patience left inside of him to even try. Instead, he shuffled a little higher up and pressed his thumb to Draco’s lips.

“Open up, my little prince. Let me use that gorgeous mouth of yours for my pleasure. Let me fill you with my cock, I want you to take it, all of it.”

Draco parted his lips and holding his cock at the base, Harry adjusted his position a little, then let the head of his prick rest against Draco’s bottom lip, giving him a feel for what was about to come.

“Will you let me fuck your mouth, my little prince? Will you be my good boy and make me come and swallow every drop I offer you?”

Draco nodded and the movement made Harry’s cock slip in a little further. He let go of his cock and took hold of Draco’s hands.

Harry intertwined their fingers and let his cock slide deeper into the warm, wet cavern, moaning at the wave of pleasure that surged through him now that his cock was finally getting the attention it so desperately needed.

“Suck me, my love. Wrap those gorgeous red lips around my prick and suck me.”

Draco moaned and did as told. He closed his lips around the hard flesh and swirled his tongue around the head, teasing, tempting.

Harry let out a low moan.

“Yes, just like that, my little prince, take a little more, suck harder,” Harry whispered and groaned when Draco did just that.

“Good boy, that feels so good. You just love to please me, don’t you? You love to suck my cock and make me feel good, don’t you, my gorgeous little prince?”

Draco hummed around his cock and the vibrations shot right up his Harry’s spine. He bucked his hips and as his cock slipped just that little bit further in, Draco choked but adjusted remarkably quickly.

Harry held still for several minutes. The sight of Draco’s lips wrapped around his cock was bewitching and Harry felt just a little lightheaded.

“Look at me.”

He whispered the order and Draco’s eyes snapped open.

“Yes, just like that, look at me while you suck my cock, don’t close your eyes. I want to see what you feel while I let you play with your favourite toy.”

Draco hummed and moaned and sucked with renewed enthusiasm.

Harry let him.

Instead of guiding him, he merely enjoyed. Draco was too good at giving head to need any instructions. It hadn’t taken him long to learn what Harry liked and disliked. He was a natural.

“Hm, yes, you’re so good at this, my love, _ngh_ , yes, suck it harder.”

Harry gripped Draco’s hands tighter, squeezed them firmly enough to draw a muffled yelp from Draco. He shifted more of his weight to his arms and raised his hips a little, bringing his groin closer to Draco’s mouth.

“Let me fuck you, little prince. I want to fuck that divine mouth of yours, I want to come down your throat.”

Draco stopped sucking on his cock, visibly relaxed his jaw muscles and before Harry could ask whether he was ready, he gave a small nod. Too high-strung and too desperate to come, Harry pulled back before snapping his hips forward.

His cock almost slipped from Draco’s lips, then disappeared right back inside the warm, wet welcoming cave. He repeated the action several times over and it didn’t take Draco long to adjust to his thrusts. Every time Harry pushed into Draco’s awaiting mouth, an eager and nimble tongue that licked and teased and prodded and flicked over all the right places met his cock and every time Harry pulled out, Draco added some suction to the mix.

Since he’d been on the edge and aroused for so long, it didn’t take long for Harry’s orgasm to start building somewhere in the depths of his groin. Watching his cock repeatedly disappear into Draco’s willing mouth made it rather impossible for Harry to draw things out. He didn’t want to make the moment last. He wanted to come. He wanted to fill Draco’s mouth with his come and he wanted to watch his throat muscles flex as he endeavoured to swallow every drop while he still had Harry’s cock in his mouth.

The pressure built steadily and Harry felt his balls tightened and draw up. His cock twitched and his entire body filled with a flood of unadulterated arousal. Harry’s thigh and buttock muscles clenched in anticipation of his impending release. He was close, too close. The pleasurable feeling continued to build and intensify and before long Harry let out a low groan.

His orgasm exploded and washed over him with such ferocity that he inadvertently forced his cock an inch deeper into Draco’s mouth.

Draco’s eyes widened and filled with tears as he tried to adjust to the persistent pressure to the back of his throat. His gag reflex kicked in immediately and tears spilt over the rim of his eyes.

Harry was vaguely aware of the fact that Draco struggled to breathe properly, then his orgasm triggered his release and he erupted in Draco’s mouth, filling it with rope after rope of warm sticky fluid.

Draco continued to fight to inhale through his nose but he had somehow managed to stop himself from gagging.

Instead, he swallowed hastily and greedily. Harry shuddered and watched him do it as he rode out his orgasm.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he whispered breathlessly.

A fresh wave of tears rolled down Draco’s cheeks.

“I love you, my little prince.”

Harry released Draco’s hands, eased his rapidly softening cock out of Draco’s mouth, and shuffled to caress his flushed and wet cheeks. He kissed his perspired forehead, his eyelids, his nose, his cheeks, his chin and finally his lips, whispering sweet nothings and words of praise that made Draco blush crimson-red.

“My beautiful prince, you did so well, you let me use your mouth and you made me feel so good, I’m so proud of you.”

Draco choked as he tried to speak and Harry silenced him by pressing their lips together.

“Shush, my love, just don’t say anything, unless you need to stop this. Tell me, do you want to stop this?”

Draco shook his head.

“No, Sir,” he croaked, his voice hoarse from Harry roughly fucking his mouth.

“Good. You’ve been so good; you really do deserve a reward. Tell me, do you want to come, my little prince.”

Draco mewled and shivered. Harry reacted immediately and cast a wandless warming charm over the bed.

“I— Harry—”

“What is it, my love, what do you want?”

“I want you inside me, please, Harry, Sir, please.”

“I just came, my little prince, you’ll have to wait if you want me to fuck you.”

“ _Ngh_ , Harry, please, your fingers.”

“Tsk, tsk, so desperate.”

“Please, Harry, please.”

“Shush, quiet now, or I’ll have to gag you,” Harry said

He picked up the spatula, he’d discarded earlier, he twirled it in his hands and smirked.

“On second thought, I don’t think I want to wait for you to break your vow of silence.”

Bracing himself on one arm, Harry leant forward and pressed the thin side of the wooden handle to Draco’s lips.

“Open up, my love.”

Draco relaxed his jaw and opened his mouth. The second he did, Harry pressed the handle between his teeth and told him to bite down.

“Let go of it, and I’ll leave you tied to the bed with a throbbing arse and a hard cock.”

Draco grunted but nodded in understanding and too lazy to reach for his wand, Harry conjured a piece of black rope, with which he expertly bound Draco’s wrists together before securing them to the headboard.

“OK?” he asked, trailing his fingertips up and down over the inside of Draco’s lithe toned arms.

Draco gave a small nod.

“Alright, on your knees, my little prince,” he said.

The piece of rope that secured Draco’s wrists to the headboard was loose enough for him to shuffle onto his knees and while he struggled to accomplish the task, Draco eventually managed. He grabbed the headboard for extra support and nudging his legs further apart, Harry settled behind him.

Pressing up against Draco, he forced him to support his body weight. He wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist, ran his hands over his chest and sought out his nipples. The little nubs were pert and hard and Harry used a bit of his own saliva to wet his fingertips before he rubbed them over the sensitive buds, then rolled them between his thumbs and forefingers before twisting them sharply and roughly.

Draco cried out and dropped the spatula onto the pillow as he panted and pulling back, Harry smacked his red arse firmly, making him groan.

“Naughty boy, didn’t I tell you I’d leave you hard and tied to the bed if you dropped it?” he spoke firmly and smacked Draco’s arse again.

Draco whimpered and moulding himself against his back, Harry picked up the spatula again.

“Last chance, drop it again and I’m not going to put anything inside of you, except maybe a vibrating butt plug that is going to keep you on edge until the early hours of the morning.”

“I’m sorry, Sir.”

Draco sobbed his apology and Harry shushed him.

“Just don’t do it again, my little prince. You can control yourself better than that, can’t you? Tell me that you won’t drop it again.”

“I won’t, Sir, I promise, Sir.”

“Good boy, I know you can do it,” Harry whispered.

He slipped the handle of the spatula back into Draco’s mouth, then encouraged him to bite down on it and keep it there. He went back to teasing and torturing those delightfully sensitive nipples and alternated between pleasuring them and twisting and pulling on them. This time, Draco groaned and panted but his cries remained muffled by the makeshift gag in his mouth.

Harry teased him for a while longer, then checked his wrists to ensure his blood flow wasn’t restricted and squeezed them softly as he mumbled the incantation to a complicated charm that he cast upon the rope. He pressed several gentle kisses to Draco’s shoulder and gently nibbled on his earlobe.

“If you at any point feel like you want or need to stop, let go of the spatula and use your safewords, the restraints will come off immediately. Nod if you understand, my little prince.”

Draco promptly nodded and Harry rewarded him with a flood of tiny kisses all over his shoulder blades and down the centre of his spine. He let his fingers trail over every inch of Draco’s body that he could reach and caressed the sweaty skin, relaxing and distracting him.

An incessant swell of moans and whimpers filled the room, resounding in his head, and grabbing Draco’s reddened buttocks, he roughly pulled them apart and squeezed.

“Beautiful,” he whispered.

Draco whined and wriggled his arse.

Harry kneaded the throbbing flesh firmly. It was hot to the touch and felt so good. He spat into the crack and watched as his saliva slit down to Draco’s hole, then buried his face in Draco’s arse and pressed the tip of his tongue against the tight ring of muscle. He flicked his tongue over the furled skin, drawing moan after moan from Draco’s body as he shivered and shuddered and struggled to keep himself in position. His knees slid further apart and Harry massaged his buttocks as he licked and lapped at the extremely sensitive sphincter, twisting Draco’s mind even further with his devious ministrations.

The muscle gradually loosened and relaxed and Harry repeatedly thrust his tongue inside. He alternated between that and circling it around Draco’s hole, mercilessly teasing him.

Draco didn’t stop moaning and keening. His whimpers filled Harry’s ears and thoroughly coating Draco’s quivering hole with his spit, he continued to massage his arse cheeks, making the lightly bruised and reddened skin throb and thrum as he ate Draco’s arse with zealous abandon.

He was rather in awe over the fact that Draco hadn’t dropped the spatula from his mouth yet and his stubborn resolve to obey to receive pleasure sent a wave of arousal surging through Harry. His cock twitched excitedly and he felt his blood rush south and fill his cock. It grew half-hard and focusing on driving Draco wanton with his tongue, Harry wandlessly summoned a phial of lube from the top drawer of his nightstand.

It flew into his hand and he continued to eat Draco’s arse for a few more minutes, then pulled back.

Draco whimpered and wailed and his hips jerked pathetically as he tried to chase after Harry’s tongue.

Harry uncorked the phial of lube, poured a very generous amount of it into the palm of his hand and coated both his hands with the thick cool substance. He warmed it up a little, then wrapped on hand around his cock and lazily stroked himself to full hardness. He wrapped his other hand around Draco’s cock and he mirrored the strokes.

“Aren’t you just a lucky one, my little prince? You’re getting all the pleasure tonight, first your gorgeous mouth and now your tight arse. Drop that spatula, be a good boy and thank me for eating your arse, come on, I want to hear you say the words. _Thank you, Sir, thank you for eating my arse_.”

Harry tugged on Draco’s cock.

He dropped the spatula with a low whimper and coughed a little to clear his throat. His voice was croaky and broken and a shudder went through him before he had even uttered the first syllable.

“Thank you, Sir— Thank you for eating my arse,” he whispered.

Harry rewarded him with a few firm strokes, then let go of his cock and dribbled a little more lube between Draco’s arse cheeks.

“Such an obedient little prince, you are precious, my love, you are truly wonderful,” he praised and without further ado, he pressed the head of his cock against Draco’s loosened hole.

Draco groaned and shuddered and Harry pushed into him, slowly but steadily. He felt the powerful muscles clench around his cock as it protested about the intrusion of his thick, long, hard prick but didn’t stop, forcing Draco to endure the burn as he stretched his hole and it struggled to adjust.

“ _Ngh_ , fuck, Harry, _ngh_ , fuck, fuck, fuck,” Draco babbled.

His entire body trembled and shook as he tried to adjust and accommodate him.

“You can take it, my love, breathe through it, deep breaths, I promise I’ll give you an amazing orgasm, you’ll fall asleep sated and happy tonight.”

A strange mixture between a whimper, a moan, and a whine escaped filled the room and fully sheathed to the hilt, Harry gave Draco a moment to adjust. He gripped his shaking body hard and held on to him, steadying him as he struggled to remain in position.

Draco took several deep breaths and Harry felt him relax and adjust. He knew that the intense burn was fading and slowly turning into pleasure and easing back, he pulled out all the way until the tip of his lubed cock rested against Draco’s fluttering hole.

“Sir, please, please, I need— I need— _please_ ,” Draco begged, sounding half delirious.

“What do you need, my love?” Harry teased, pressing his cock against Draco’s sphincter but not actually breaching the muscle.

“Please Harry, please fuck me, _please_!”

“Greedy little thing, wasn’t the spanking and me fucking your mouth and eating your arse enough? Still not satisfied?”

“No, yes, please, Harry, please, fuck me, take me, please.”

Instead of answering him, Harry pushed inside, then snapped his hips forward and shoved his cock deep into Draco’s tight channel. He pulled back immediately, then slammed forward again. With each merciless thrust, Draco’s entire body trembled and unable to keep kneeling, he spread his thighs and the new angle made Harry slip even deeper. He groaned, grabbed Draco’s hips hard enough to bruise and fucked him with wild abandon, repeatedly slamming into him.

Draco groaned and moaned and deliriously begged for more, begged for Harry to allow him to come which he denied Draco several times over, telling him that he wasn’t going to get permission to come until after he had come. Draco whimpered and keened at that and howled as Harry sank his cock into him again.

Harry mumbled a spell that lengthened the rope between Draco’s wrists and the headboard and wrapping his arms around him, he effortlessly changed their position and pulled Draco onto his lap, briefly sitting back on his haunches. He then raised himself up onto his knees and holding Draco tight, he pulled him up with him, then continued to fuck into his tight channel as he peppered Draco’s shoulder and his neck with breathless kisses and heady nibbles.

“Harry, Harry, Harry.”

Draco chanted his name as though it had suddenly become his mantra.

He let the sound of Draco’s raving babbles wash over him and carry him away as he fucked him harder, faster, rougher, drawing all sorts of delicious sounds from him.

“Mine, mine, mine,” he growled.

“Harry, Harry, Harry.”

“Mine, you’re mine, all mine, only mine, always mine, forever mine, my precious little prince, my beautiful sweet angel, my love, my everything.”

Harry panted against Draco’s neck, then sank his teeth into the sweat-soaked skin. He bit hard and sucked even harder and Draco screamed and trembled and Harry didn’t need to see his face to know that he’d finally drifted over the edge and was floating in a different realm altogether.

The knowledge of that was enough to pull him towards the edge and grabbing Draco’s cock, he fisted it hard, matching his strokes to the rhythm of his thrusts. The hot hard flesh throbbed in his hand and Draco’s channel tightened around him as a wave of burning pleasure swept Harry off and dragged him right over the edge. He gave in and pressed his mouth to Draco’s ear.

“Come with me, my beautiful prince, come with me.”

Draco did not need any more encouragement and as Harry ploughed into him, stiffened, and filled him with his come, he fell over the edge and coated Harry’s hand and the bed with thick ropes of pearly-white fluid.

They both toppled forward and landed on the bed an entangled mess of limbs and rope and Harry pressed his face into Draco’s back as he held him tight and they both rode out their orgasms.

It took Harry several long minutes to regain any kind of composure and gently pulling out of Draco, Harry disappeared the conjured restraints with a lazy flick of his wrist and a wandless spell. He eased Draco onto his back, checked his wrists for any sign of damage and only when he found none, did he allow himself to fall back into the cushions beside Draco, sated and blissfully happy.

He was vaguely aware that he was lying in a pool of Draco’s come and the cooling liquid was uncomfortable and sticky against his skin but despite the mild discomfort he didn’t care enough to move.

Instead, he remained on his back and wrapping one hand around Draco’s, he stared at the ceiling and tried to regulate his breathing.

It took a few minutes until he was able to do so and grudgingly rolling onto his side, he pressed his free hand to Draco’s chest, feeling his thrumming heartbeat.

“Draco? My love?”

“Mm.”

“Are you still with me?”

“Mm.”

“Can you even understand me?”

“Mm.”

Harry chuckled softly and took a proper look at Draco, who lay on his back with a stupid grin on his face and his damp hair plastered all over his forehead and his sides. A deep purple mark bloomed on the side of his neck and when Harry called his name, he let his head fall to the side and slowly opened his eyes. He looked dazed and thoroughly spaced out and hitting them both with a gentle cleaning charm and a spell to keep them warm, Harry pulled Draco into his arms and held him tight.

“Thank you, Sir.”

The whispered words momentarily stunned Harry into silence and gently running his fingers through Draco’s hair, he kissed him softly.

“You’re welcome, my precious little prince, I love you.”

“Mm, I love you too.”

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I am Yours.**  
>  Yours to taunt, Yours to spank,  
> Yours to protect, Yours to fuck,  
> Yours to taste, Yours to caress,  
> Yours to whip, Yours to kiss,  
> Yours to inspect, Yours to bite,  
> Yours to give pain, Yours to take pleasure,  
> Yours to love, Yours to spread open, wide.  
> Until no parts of me remain unseen,  
> untouched, undiscovered,  
> by You.  
>  **I am Yours.**  
>  I am Yours to break,  
> but never left broken.  
> I am Yours to make wait,  
> but not forgotten.  
> I am Yours to own,  
> but never take for granted.  
> I am Yours to hold tightly,  
> but not to keep prisoner.  
> I am Yours to set free,  
> but never let go.


	48. Little Prince, Kneel (a.k.a. A Different Kind Of Submission)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's talk BDSM and submission. There's a common and unfortunately rather annoying misconception that submission must always revolve around sex and this shows in the majority of written works.
> 
> Submission does not have to revolve around sex. Yes, it can, and yes, it's hot when it does (I certainly know that you've been enjoying all the smutty D/s power play in this story) but do you know what?
> 
> Sexual submission is just one aspect of submission and a rather small one too.
> 
> Non-sexual submission is beautiful and such a huge part of a D/s relationship.
> 
> Tasks such as doing housework or cooking or even the simple act of making coffee for the Dominant partner mean so much more. For a submissive, these tasks aren't a chore but pleasure. Yes, they have been ordered to complete these tasks, but they do so out of their own free will, they choose to submit, to surrender control, and obey the orders given to them by their Dominant partner. These tasks, they allow a submissive to surrender control in everyday situations instead of just during playtime and for a proper D/s relationship to work and last that is incredibly important. Some people crave continuous submission, others enjoy taking a breather from it every now and then but all s-types crave it and need it to some degree. It fulfils them, completes them in a way that can be hard to understand by someone who is not into the lifestyle or doesn't know much about it.
> 
> Now, Harry and Draco are not in a 24/7 D/s relationship, however, that certainly does not stop them from experimenting with certain aspects of it and as it happens, they've been doing so throughout the story and in many different ways. Some of Draco's submissive acts have been very subtle, some have been glaringly obvious. Draco has enjoyed any and all of these moments but he's yet to consciously realise the importance of them for himself...or is the coin slowly dropping?
> 
> Read to find out.
> 
> Love,  
> Selly x
> 
> P.S. If you'd like some reading material, I'm offering these articles:  
> 1) ["6 Orders for a Submissive That Have Nothing to Do With Sex"](https://www.kinkly.com/6-orders-for-a-submissive-that-have-nothing-to-do-with-sex/2/15722)  
> 2) ["Kink Without Sex? That's Just How Some People Like It"](https://www.kinkly.com/2/13173/sex-tips/bdsm/kink-without-sex-thats-just-how-some-people-like-it)  
> 3) ["BDSM Without Sex?"](http://sunnymegatron.com/bdsm-without-sex)  
> 

* * *

“Harry?”

“Hm?”

Harry set the electric kettle down on the kitchen counter and turned around. He leant back and smiled at Draco who was casually leaning against a sturdy wooden beam a few feet away from him. He had his hands buried deep in his trouser pockets, was bare feet and wore a plain dark grey comfortable-looking hoodie. Harry had never seen him wear it before. It was several sizes too big for Draco’s lithe frame but somehow, he still managed to look extraordinarily sexy in the plain Muggle outfit.

Unable to resist the temptation, Harry lifted his hand and crooking his finger, he beckoned Draco over.

About a month before Christmas, Harry had spontaneously and, of course, entirely without Draco’s knowledge, solicited Charlie to help him find a nice romantic getaway somewhere in the heart of Romania.

After a successful last-minute booking via a most helpful local Muggle travel agency, though Harry was convinced Charlie had meddled and somehow enticed the agency to be extremely accommodating, he’d surprised Draco with a ten-day holiday to Brașov County in the heart of Transylvania.

Following a hectic Christmas, an oversized log home with stunning views of the surrounding mountains, thick layers of eternally undisturbed snow, and solitude felt like the perfect escape from the drudgery of everyday life.

They’d arrived three days ago and while the owner, most definitely an ordinary Muggle woman, had been rather surprised to find that it was just the two of them, she’d not complained about the hefty not pre-negotiated tip, Harry had forked over to ensure complete privacy.

However, Harry hadn’t done it out of the goodness of his own heart because he had too much Muggle money to spare. When he’d discovered that she was most enamoured with Draco, he’d been less than pleased to witness someone blatantly ogling what was his and had, quite frankly, simply wanted to get her off their backs.

Despite his irrational jealousy, which Draco found endearing (and which had, of course, ended in rather hot sex soon after they’d entered the lodge) and in an act of pure possessiveness, Harry had wrapped his arms tightly around Draco to show her that Draco was his man and that he didn’t like the idea of standing by and watching her openly and unashamedly flirt with him.

She’d thankfully been smart enough to take the hint and quickly left them alone to enjoy their romantic post-Christmas break away from England.

It was nice to be able to let go of any and all responsibilities beyond sleeping in, lounging about in front of the open fireplace in the living room and having an excessive amount of sex all over the massive three-storey country house.

In all fairness, the place was far too big for just the two of them — it was big enough to accommodate the entire Weasley clan plus their children — but it had been the only place that had been available at short notice and so Harry had booked it, regardless of the size of the place. To be quite honest, it reminded him a bit like a rustic version of Malfoy Manor, only better.

Charlie had suggested that they take a half-day hiking trip in the nearby Carpathian Mountains and the owner of the property had made a few suggestions of things to see and do in Brașov but so far, they had yet to leave the privacy of the stunning wooden villa and Harry had no regrets whatsoever.

He was quite happy to be all coupley.

Spending a few loved-up days in a romantic bubble of pure bliss thoroughly appealed to him and Draco was most definitely not complaining.

The new year was promising to be a busy one and Harry wasn’t particularly looking forward to it or having to return to his everyday duties as Department Head. He knew that Draco, despite being in love with his job, felt the same. Work was draining, tiring, and sometimes even downright exhausting. On top of that, there were friendships to uphold, people to see, things to do. Real life could, at times, be a bit of a menace and Harry was in no rush to get back to his; and neither was Draco.

Harry pulled himself out of his thoughts and watched as Draco pushed himself off the timber beam and strolled over. He stopped right in front of him and reaching out, Harry sneaked his arms around Draco’s waist and pulled him flush against his body. He smiled, then leant in to capture those lush lips in a slow kiss. Draco melted against him and Harry hugged him that little bit tighter, allowing his possessive nature to take over, something that came quite natural to him.

“Do you have any special plans for tonight?”

Harry smirked.

“Ravish you?” he offered most sincerely.

Draco rolled his eyes.

“Be serious, Potter.”

“I was. I am. I do want to ravish you, preferably all night long and repeatedly. Do you have any objections?”

“If I do, you’ll just tie me to the bed and do it anyway.”

Harry chuckled.

“Not if you use your safeword. Besides, what would be the fun in tying you to be bed when there are all these wooden beams and bannisters at our disposal. It would be a complete waste not to utilise them for some rather kinky fun. We don’t have any of these at home, although the more I look at them, the more I think I should install a couple of those beams in the playroom, just for fun.”

Harry let his hands slide lower and possessively grabbing Draco’s arse, he squeezed it firmly. He relished in their closeness and judging by the look on his face, so did Draco.

“Do you want to go out? We can Apparate into Brașov. Charlie left me several coordinates for various places in town.”

“I don’t especially want to go out but I will join you if that’s what you want.”

Draco’s pout was adorable and tempting. Harry pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Stay in?”

Draco nodded.

“I want to spend the last evening of the year with you, just you. I’ve not yet recovered from Christmas, too many people, too much action.”

“Well, it’s settled then. We’ll stay in and I’ll romance you crazy,” Harry smiled.

“Did you make plans?”

“Charlie recommended a small restaurant in the city and I made preliminary reservations but I haven’t called to confirm that we’re definitely coming.”

“Let’s cook.”

“We could do that too; I do enjoy spending time in the kitchen with you.”

Draco quirked a questioning eyebrow at him and finally pulled his hands out of his pockets. He rested them on Harry’s shoulders and idly toyed with his unruly hair. His touch was soft and gentle and Harry absolutely loved the attention he was getting; he loved it as much as watching Draco melt underneath his hands.

“I meant cook together, like, you know, chop vegetables, cook noodles and all that.”

Harry smiled.

“That’s what I thought you meant.”

“So, you don’t expect me to do it all by myself while you go lounge about the living room or take a nap or whatever?”

“Why would I expect you to do that?”

“Because you’re the dominant type who likes to order me around.”

“I could now argue that you’re the submissive type who likes to be ordered around.”

“Well, yes, but I still want us to cook together. I thought we could do a stir-fry. Just a bunch of vegetables with some lightly fried Asian-style noodles, maybe a bit of chicken. Nothing fancy really, just something light and delicious.”

“I’ve got no objections.”

Draco frowned and tilted his head slightly to the side.

“Did you leave your Dom-hat at home?”

Harry chuckled.

“I brought my Dom-hat with me alright.”

“I’ve not seen it at all, you’ve been so sickeningly romantic that you’ve actually got me a little worried.”

“Oh? Do I detect the desire to submit, my little prince?”

The request was subtle and barely obvious but the look in Draco’s eyes spoke volumes and Harry had enough experience and sensitivity to notice the veiled plea.

He did not wait for Draco’s answer to his question; he didn’t hear the words to know what Draco wanted. He couldn’t have been more obvious if he’d tried.

Instead, he moved his hands from Draco’s buttocks to his upper arms. He rested them there for a moment or two, then slowly let his hands slide along Draco’s arms. He smiled when Draco’s breathing hitched a little, then closed his fingers firmly around Draco’s wrists and gently pulling them off his shoulders, he moved Draco’s arms to rest behind his back and held them in place, effectively restraining him.

Draco’s lack of protest did not surprise him and even though Harry knew that Draco was unlikely to move his hands without explicit consent, he did not let go. He rather enjoyed ensuring that Draco’s hands stayed where he wanted them to stay.

“Am I to understand that you need me to be a bit more assertive? Have I been too tolerant for your liking, my love?” he asked.

He deliberately lowered his voice to a seductive drawl and pushing away from the counter, he slowly walked Draco backwards, out of the open-plan kitchen and past the massive cushiony burgundy corner sofa in the centre of the spacious living room. He pinned Draco against one of the many thick wooden beams that were part of the interior design, giving the log home its rustic cabin atmosphere.

“What do you want, my little prince?”

Draco’s mouth opened and closed but no words came out and Harry claimed his lips in a demanding kiss, purposefully leaving him gasping for air. He adjusted the position of Draco’s arms and moved them behind the beam, then shuffled even closer. He pressed up against Draco, trapping him between his muscular body and the robust timber beam and trailed a series of kisses along Draco’s jawline and towards his ear.

There, Harry nibbled at his earlobe, sucked it into his mouth and when he began to pepper Draco’s neck with plenty of tiny kisses, Draco immediately tilted his head to give him better access.

Draco let out a low moan and certain that he wouldn’t move his arms, Harry let go. He ran his hands up and down Draco’s arms and down his chest and stomach, then slipped them underneath the loose hoodie to explore the warm skin underneath. It was sensitive to the touch and Draco hissed in response to his gentle teasing.

Harry grabbed Draco’s hips, squeezed hard, and pushed him firmly against the solid wood, then pulled away and watched as Draco’s eyelids fluttered open and closed. He was clearly undecided about whether to keep his eyes open or close them and Harry, resolutely and without hesitation, made the decision for him.

“Look at me, my little prince.”

Draco’s eyes instantly snapped open and he swallowed hard as he unsuccessfully tried to focus. He looked dazed and half-gone. It truly mesmerised Harry how a few simple touches and a couple of teasing questions had this much of an effect on him.

His unforced surrender was a gift, Harry cherished with every fibre of his being. It wasn’t something he could ever see himself take for granted. It was an obvious proof of how much Draco trusted him and of how comfortable he felt to ask for something he wanted, something that excited him.

Despite all this still being relatively new to Draco, he’d come a long way and it showed in his actions and in his behaviour. The fact that he was, for the most part, comfortable in his own skin also showed.

Harry hoped that submitting to him was something Draco needed but since it had only been a handful of months and he was loath to believe that Draco had consciously realised that relinquishing all control and letting Harry take care of him was something he craved. He certainly knew that he desired it because it made him feel good to let go but that it may actually be something that he needed in his life, something that helped him to perhaps function better, well, he probably hadn’t quite realised that yet.

For the time being, Harry was happy to settle for Draco’s subconsciousness pushing him towards being bold and boy did he enjoy it whenever Draco got bold and pushed his own boundaries, asking for new things and bravely willing to explore new and unchartered waters.

“Sir— I—”

Draco’s words were barely a whisper but they still sent a pleasant jolt down Harry’s spine. He cupped Draco’s cheek and caressed it with his thumb, then leant in and kissed him tenderly. He pressed his lips to his ear and felt Draco inhale sharply.

Harry left him hanging for several seconds, left Draco with the knowledge that he was about to give him a command, and the more Draco’s anticipation grew, the more arrhythmic became his breathing. Harry thoroughly enjoyed keeping Draco hanging on the edge, it was one of his most favourite games to play, but he also knew that he couldn’t draw things out for too long.

“My little prince, _kneel_.”

Harry whispered the command into Draco’s ear.

Draco whimpered.

His knees buckled and his legs shook.

Harry took a half-step back and watched in awe as Draco let himself slide down the timber beam. He sank to his knees right in front of him and it was the most beautiful sight Harry had ever seen. He did not move his arms but kept them exactly where Harry had placed them, namely behind the wooden support, and when he lowered his head submissively, Harry felt his chest swell with pride.

_Look at you, my beautiful little prince, there’s such beauty in your surrender, such power in your submission, you absolutely take my breath away_ , Harry thought and gently ran his fingers through Draco’s hair, caressing his scalp, massaging it affectionately.

“Such fluid obedience, my love, truly beautiful to watch, you are perfect,” he praised and crouching down in front of Draco, he gently coaxed him into lifting his head to meet his gaze.

“Is this what you want, my little prince? Do you want to be on your knees at my feet for a little while?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Draco sounded breathless and his flushed cheeks were a beautiful shade of dark pink. Harry caressed them and pressed a kiss to those wet, lush lips, he couldn’t quite get enough of kissing, biting, licking, and nibbling on. He wordlessly summoned Draco’s favourite black leather collar, the first one Harry had ever given him, and when he showed it to him, Draco simply nodded and lowered his head, showing no resistance whatsoever.

“My sweet obedient little prince, you’re so good for wanting to wear your collar for me and wanting to show me that you’re mine.”

Harry expertly secured the collar around Draco’s neck, then summoned a set of four padded leather restraints. They flew into his outstretched hand and moving behind Draco, he secured his wrists behind the wooden beam and then restrained Draco’s ankles in the same manner. He attached the ankle restraints to the wrist restraints and checking that they weren’t too tight, he moved back in front of Draco.

The restraints made it impossible for Draco to spread his legs or shuffle more than a few inches to either the left or right. The fact that Harry had connected the ankle restraints to the wrist restraints meant that it was entirely impossible for Draco to move his arms and the wooden beam prevented Draco from sitting back on his haunches. He had no choice but to remain kneeling with his back straight.

“OK?” Harry asked, checking in with Draco to make sure everything was all right.

“Yes, Sir.”

Draco dutifully kept his head lowered as he spoke and his voice was soft and quiet, yet another expression of his willing surrender and Harry basked in it.

“Enough, or do you want more?”

“More please, Sir.”

Harry smiled.

There were moments when Draco’s submission came so naturally to him and it only made Harry love him more. Usually, Draco submitted at the slightest prompt but those moments when he wanted it, when he pushed him to take control, those were extra special. They were precious moments and Harry wanted to save all of them in his Pensieve.

_Whatever you desire you shall have, my little prince_ , he thought and snapped his fingers.

Draco’s clothes, including his underwear, vanished instantly.

Stunned, Draco didn’t quite manage to keep his head down. His sudden nakedness and the fact that Harry had tied him to a wooden beam in the centre of a large living room in a house entirely made of wood and glass was too much of a shock to his system. He looked up and stared at Harry with disbelieving eyes.

“You— my clothes—” he whispered.

Harry gently caressed his cheek, providing him with physical reassurance.

“Yes, I took your clothes. You shan’t be getting them back any time soon. You’re mine and I want you naked but don’t worry, I’ll raise the temperature inside the house. You won’t feel cold, I promise you.”

The words seemed to calm Draco and he relaxed a little but there was clear apprehension in his eyes and Harry knew he had to reassure Draco further. If he wanted to go ahead with his little plan, he had to first dispel Draco’s trepidation.

“It’s only me looking at you, my love, you’re doing this for me, nobody else is going to see you like this ever. Your surrender is for my eyes only, my little prince.”

Harry summoned one last item from the small suitcase of kinky delights he’d brought along for them to indulge in. He wasn’t sure whether Draco would agree to wear the item in question but he wanted to at least try and convince him. He wanted to see if he could push Draco’s boundaries just a little and get him to move past his comfort zone.

Since they’d arrived at the log home, they’d been so busy being sickeningly romantic, as Draco had so eloquently put it, that they hadn’t indulged in any proper playtime. Harry hadn’t been at all dominant, at least not overly so, and it didn’t surprise him that Draco had noticed.

While he usually made sure to dial back his desire to exert power, there were still a lot of little things he did to slightly tip the balance. He was generally the one to initiate a kiss, a hug or even sex and whenever they held hands, his hand always rested on top.

Draco was a fiery dragon with strong opinions and he never hesitated to speak his mind but sometimes one look was all it took to get him to fall silent. One touch was all it took to entice him to walk half a step behind Harry and a softly spoken command elicited the most beautiful responses in him.

These past few days, their lovemaking had been shockingly vanilla. It wasn’t necessarily unusual but Harry thought it rather strange that he had neither tried to restrain Draco nor given him any orders. He had certainly not done it on purpose but the fact that Draco had taken note of it and even missed his dominant side pleased him immensely.

The summoned item flew into his hand and Harry showed it to Draco, who exhaled audibly. There was both astonishment and fear in his eyes but also a hint of excitement and spark of anticipation for the unknown.

Harry caressed Draco’s cheek gently and decided to further nurture Draco’s desire to submit to him.

“My little prince, I’ll stay right here on the sofa the entire time. I won’t leave you alone while you’re bound and at my mercy. I’ll be just a few feet away. If it gets too much, you just call my name and I’ll remove it immediately, no questions asked, you have my promise.”

“I—” Draco started but broke off.

“You don’t have to do it, my love. I think you can do this, but this is entirely your choice, I’m just offering you something new.”

“Let— let me do it, Sir.”

“Are you sure?”

“No, but I want to try this. I need to try this. Please.”

Harry smiled.

“My brave little prince, I love you so much.”

He placed a kiss on Draco’s lips, deepened it and easing his tongue into Draco’s mouth, he teased his tongue and toyed with it until Draco let out a series of breathless moans and leant into him as best as he could in his current position. Harry pulled away and looking down, he licked his lips at the sight of Draco’s hard cock which bobbed and twitched between his legs.

The temptation was great but he resolutely pushed any thoughts of ravishing Draco to the back of his mind. No matter how much Draco’s obvious arousal turned him on, he did not want this moment to be about sex but about the act of submission. He wanted Draco to learn that he could trust him completely and that his submission didn’t always have to result in sex; it could be just that, a simple act of submitting, of surrendering control and knowing he wasn’t weak for doing so but strong.

Harry gently slipped the silken blindfold over Draco’s eyes and fastened it expertly.

“OK?” he asked.

Draco nodded.

“Good. My little prince, you are so beautiful. It means the world to me to see the evidence of how much you trust me. You truly take my breath away. There are no words to describe how much I treasure your desire to let me take control over you.”

The unadulterated praise drew a low whine from the depths of Draco’s throat and Harry remained close to him. He continued to gently caress his cheek and ran his other hand up and down Draco’s outer thigh.

After a few minutes, he stopped and simply splayed his fingers out over the warm skin of Draco’s leg, letting it rest there in a silent gesture.

He didn’t speak.

Instead, he gave Draco the time he needed to acclimatise himself with his position.

Every now and then, he gently squeezed Draco’s thigh but eventually stopped that too. He pulled his hand away and rested it on his own knee. He didn’t move away but he didn’t touch Draco either.

Harry remained completely still and so did Draco. His slightly laboured breathing gave away his current state of mind but otherwise, he remained completely calm and collected. He kept his head lowered and did not struggle against his restraints or shuffle in any way.

Draco’s submission drove Harry wild with desire and it took him every ounce of self-control not to pounce on him and ravish him but he pushed any and all salacious thoughts aside and focused on checking in with Draco.

“My love, I’m going to move over to the sofa now. Are you OK with that?”

Draco turned his head towards the direction of his voice but did not lift his head fully.

“I think so, Sir.”

“Good. You’re doing well and I promise you I won’t leave you alone. I’ll be on the sofa the entire time. If you feel uncomfortable or panicky just call my name.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Harry smiled at Draco’s response.

He moved to stand up, stretched a little and walked over to the sofa where he sat down, leant back and simply watched Draco.

_My prized possession_ , he thought with awe.

He could tell that Draco was slowly losing himself in the moment, losing himself in his surrender. He was completely relaxed and it showed in the way he held himself. His breathing had slowed a little and had become more regular and he looked truly beautiful.

Seeing Draco like this, naked, bound, and blindfolded, was intensely arousing and Harry fought to keep it together. He was painfully hard and aroused and squeezing his cock through his jeans, he bit his lips to suppress a moan.

Part of him wanted to unzip his trousers, pull his cock out and stroke himself until he reached his climax but another, larger part of him wanted this moment to be about Draco and not about a quick wank.

He saw no discernible benefit in taking advantage of the situation like that and so he took a deep breath and ignored his own needs and desires. There would be plenty of time to satisfy those later.

He shuffled into a more comfortable position and kept a close eye on Draco and the time.

Ten minutes went by without a hitch and Harry relaxed.

He was still learning all about Draco’s boundaries, and so was Draco, but so long as he remained calm, Harry was happy to continue to test his limits.

So far, and not limited to today, Draco had taken everything he’d thrown (figuratively speaking) at him. He’d taken it all in his stride and his enjoyment pleased Harry immensely.

Another ten minutes ticked by and Harry had managed to commit every single detail about Draco’s graceful pose to memory. He continued to keep his head lowered in silent surrender but his back was straight. Since he was unable to sit back on his haunches to relieve some of the pressure, he had opted to spread his thighs slightly to better balance his weight. He did not use the beam behind him for support and Harry’s chest swelled with pride and love. He vowed to praise Draco to the heavens and back for his courage to let himself go so completely.

A few more minutes of quietude passed, then Draco called out to him. His voice was soft and there was a level of unease to it but he didn’t look like he was panicking or wanted out.

“I’m right here, my little prince.”

In an instant, Harry moved off the sofa and crouched down in front of Draco. To provide him with a little comfort, he reached out and squeezed Draco’s shoulder gently.

“I’m here, my love, you’re OK, you’re safe.”

“I—”

“Do you want to stop?”

“No, I just—”

“Missed me?” Harry offered.

“Yes, Sir.”

“I’m right here with you. I’ve been watching you this entire time and you look so beautiful. You’re so brave and you’re doing so well. You’re amazing, my little prince, I respect you so much for doing this.”

The slight pink tinge to Draco’s cheeks was utterly endearing and Harry caressed them lovingly.

“You like all that praise, don’t you, my love?”

“Yes, Sir,” Draco whispered.

He blushed even harder.

“Now, now, don’t be shy about it, my little prince. I love giving you compliments. Knowing that I make you feel good pleases me and you like pleasing me, don’t you?”

Draco nodded and let out a low whimper. Harry captured his lips in yet another kiss, then slowly backed away.

“I’m going to go sit on the sofa again. I want you to try and last another thirty minutes. Do you think you can do that?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good boy. I know you’ll manage, you’re so brave, you can do this. I don’t want you to think about anything, just let your mind drift, let it wander but not settle. OK?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good boy.”

Harry smiled and returned to sitting on the sofa. With an experienced sub he would normally leave the room or at the very least pick up a book or maybe watch a movie but he didn’t dare to do that with Draco. He wanted to concentrate on him just in case he needed support.

_You deserve an award for how good you are, my little prince_ , he thought to himself, shuffled into a more comfortable position and glanced at his wristwatch.

Half an hour passed in a blur for Harry but he knew all too well that to Draco it probably felt like an eternity.

Despite that, he remained completely calm and composed and by the time thirty minutes were up, Harry didn’t really want to set Draco free. He wanted to keep him bound to the wooden beam for the rest of the afternoon and preferably some of the night but rules were rules and he wasn’t about to break Draco’s trust in him.

They’d agreed on half an hour and no matter what Harry wanted, he wasn’t going to go about getting it by cheating Draco and forcing him to draw out his submission. Not even by a minute.

He eased off the sofa and crouching down in front of Draco, he caressed his cheek and kissed him on the lips.

“Time’s up, my love,” he whispered and undid the blindfold.

Draco blinked several times, then focused on him and smiled softly. He looked dazed and thoroughly spaced out. He was completely calm and relaxed and very much looked like he couldn’t quite decide whether he wanted to come back from whatever place he’d drifted off to or whether he wanted to return to it and stay there for the near future.

“How do you feel?”

“So good.”

“I’m glad. I’m going to take off your restraints now, OK?”

Draco nodded in response and Harry took his time to remove the leather cuffs from his wrists and ankles, gently caressing Draco’s warm skin as he did so. He checked to make sure that blood flow was normal, then took Draco’s hands into his own and squeezed gently.

“My gorgeous little prince, you lasted just over an hour, do you know that?”

“It was only an hour?” Draco asked, looking completely surprised.

Harry nodded.

“Yes.”

“It felt much longer, even that half hour we agreed on felt so much longer.”

“I can imagine.”

Harry smiled and helped Draco up. He wordlessly pulled him into a fierce hug. They stood like this for a few minutes and Draco buried his face in his neck and inhaled deeply, then withdrew a little and smiled shyly.

“Thank you, this was absolutely incredible.”

“My pleasure. I’d like to give you another task if you’re up for it? Just because you’re no longer bound and blindfolded doesn’t mean we have to stop this.”

Draco nodded.

“I am, Sir.”

“All right. Go upstairs and have a shower. Do not get yourself off. When you’re finished, dry yourself but do not put on any clothes. I want you to stay naked until I tell you otherwise. Is that OK?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good boy. I’m so proud of you, now go. I’ll be here waiting for you.”

* * *

* * *

“This is completely ridiculous,” Draco grumbled.

He felt so damned foolish for sitting at the dinner table without his clothes on. He wasn’t ashamed of his body. On the contrary, he was quite proud of his toned muscles and his tall, lithe figure.

Draco wasn’t one for regular physical exercise but he had a fit body and he knew it.

Still, he didn’t normally make a habit out of lounging about the house in nothing but his birthday suit and this was the first time Harry had made him do it for such a long period.

Clenching both fists, Draco glanced at Harry.

He looked as handsome as ever in his loose dark jeans and a comfortable light grey jumper and even though the clothes hid his strapping athletic built, Draco had no trouble picturing it in his mind. The stark contrast between them, and the fact that Harry wore clothes while he didn’t, only served to heighten his excessive awareness of his nakedness and he sighed exasperatedly.

Harry’s hand came to rest on top of his own and he squeezed gently. The reassuring, familiar touch sent a rush of calm through Draco and as he met Harry’s gaze, he could feel his fists loosen.

It wasn’t a conscious reaction and it surprised him though not overly so. Harry had the strangest effects on him, especially when he was being dominant.

Most of the time, reacting to Harry’s blatant display of dominance came so naturally that Draco didn’t have time to properly contemplate it.

“What is completely ridiculous?”

Harry’s voice was soft and rich with warmth and a spatter of concern. It washed over Draco like a tender caress and encased him in a cocoon of safety.

He felt himself relax but his prolonged state of undress continued to make him feel somewhat uncomfortable. He felt like he was on display for the world to see. It was stupid and he knew as much but the log home’s floor-to-ceiling glass windows didn’t exactly help ease his discomfiture.

“Sitting here in the nude while you are fully dressed.”

Harry’s crooked and charming smile made the confession easy.

Draco felt Harry’s thumb circle over the pulse point on his wrist.

Inexplicably drawn to the all too familiar touch, Draco broke eye contact and looked down at the strong hand presently resting on top of his own.

His mind drifted back to earlier that afternoon when Harry had gently eased him into his submission by simply moving his arms behind his back and holding them there. The memory of allowing Harry to restrain him to one of the thick timber beams in the living room sent a shudder of excitement through him.

He found himself recalling the feeling of Harry’s hand possessively resting on his hip while they’d watched a Romanian movie with English subtitles on television afterwards.

He’d paid absolutely no attention to the movie, not even for a second.

Harry had thoroughly distracted him by repeatedly combing his fingers through his hair and massaging his scalp. He’d buried his face in Harry’s lap and had nearly fallen asleep at some point. He was sure that he’d, at some point during the movie, given in to the desire to doze off and if Harry had noticed, he hadn’t said a word.

Draco also remembered all those subtle, teasing touches while they’d prepared dinner together.

Harry had seemingly found a million and one excuses to touch him and Draco hadn’t minded in the slightest. Each touch had heightened his arousal and had made him extremely conscious of Harry’s presence.

All that had thoroughly distracted him from being overly aware of his nakedness but now that they’d sat down at the dinner table together, the realisation had crashed over him like a tidal wave. He suddenly felt a little overwhelmed and wasn’t sure how to deal with his nudity.

“Draco, look at me.”

Unable to ignore the soft but firm command, Draco looked up.

“Are you uncomfortable with being naked around me?”

“No, not per se, I just—”

Draco trailed off and pulling his bottom lip into his mouth, he nervously gnawed on it.

Brilliant, as usual, Harry expected him to try and explain himself and he hadn’t the foggiest idea of how to accomplish that.

“What is it, my love? Talk to me.”

“I feel like I’m on display,” Draco murmured.

He sighed and stared past Harry.

It was pitch-dark outside and the nearest neighbouring home was nearly a mile away. They were the only two people on the entire property.

Nobody was lurking outside.

Nobody was looking in.

Those were indisputable facts and Draco was aware of all of them but he still didn’t feel completely at ease. Somehow, the irrational part of his brain insisted on drowning out the rational part and it made him tense.

“Is that a bad thing? You absolutely are on display, for me and me alone. I’m too possessive to ever let anyone see you like that. Surely you know that?”

The tip of Harry’s finger gently ran up and down his forearm and the soft touch was rather distracting.

Looking down, Draco watched and felt and succumbed just a little.

Harry’s caress was entirely innocent and not at all sexual, yet Draco was so completely aware of the sensation that he could feel it tingle all over his body.

It slithered up his arm and down his spine and filled him with a swell of warmth that increased the speed of the rise and fall of his chest. His mind calmed a little but not enough to completely vanquish his embarrassment over his state of undress.

“I do know that, but—”

Draco left that sentence unfinished too and looking straight at Harry, he swallowed hard. Maybe the look in his eyes could convey how he felt because try as he might, he couldn’t find the right words.

The heat in Harry’s eyes was intense and it made him shiver and shudder with excitement.

Harry had been silently devouring him with his eyes ever since he’d returned from his refreshing shower earlier this afternoon. He’d felt Harry’s arousal press against his cheek all throughout the movie and while the temptation to slide off the sofa to give Harry a blowjob had been almost unbearable; he hadn’t wanted to take the liberty.

He’d relinquished his control, had surrendered to Harry out of his own volition and he hadn’t felt ready to give up and level the playing field again. He wanted Harry to remain in charge and knowing that he didn’t have to ask for anything, that it gave Harry pleasure to decide for them both, well, it took a load off his shoulder.

“Harry, I—”

Draco made another attempt at explaining himself but his voice failed him and he let out an exasperated groan. He was a first-class prosecutor and never ran out of things to say.

These days, words were his preferred weapon, and to be quite honest, they’d always been his preferred weapon but it had taken the end of a mindless war and the Ministry’s forceful removal of his father’s maddeningly biased influence for him to get really good at using words to express himself. And yet here they were again: Harry absolutely had the unbelievable talent to render him speechless.

Draco could feel his cheeks flush and heat. The knowledge that he was rapidly turning crimson-red, made him look down at his plate and he returned to pulling his bottom lip into his mouth to endlessly gnaw on it.

He heard Harry get up and felt him cup his chin. He haphazardly resisted Harry’s gentle coaxing for a while but wasn’t strong enough to withstand the persuasive power of Harry’s warm voice and the firm command that followed.

“I want you to look at me, my little prince.”

Draco resistance all but disappeared and he looked up at Harry.

The genuine concern in those startlingly green eyes flooded Draco with love and he couldn’t help but wonder exactly when he’d managed to get this lucky. The fact that Harry loved him so fiercely and was able to read him like a book still threw him off and he fervently hoped that that feeling would never change. He wanted that special feeling to last forever and he didn’t care how corny that sounded.

“Do you want clothes?”

The direct question surprised Draco and he stammered his way through his response.

“I— No— I mean— I want— I feel— _fuck_!”

Harry’s amused chuckle made him shudder.

“Sod eloquence, eh?” he teased.

Draco frowned, then sighed. He didn’t have the energy and focus required to pretend to hold a grudge.

“Harry, I—”

“I know. You feel uncomfortable being naked, while I’m not. You feel like you’re on display for the whole world to see and even though you know that that’s not true you just can’t shake the unease. I’ll ask you again, do you want clothes?”

“Will you be upset if I do?”

“Why would I be upset?”

“Because you like looking at me. I noticed the way you’ve been looking at me ever since you vanished my clothes.”

“You were meant to notice that look, I wanted you to.”

Draco tilted his head sideways and pushed into Harry’s gentle caress of his cheek.

“Do you want to know why I kept you naked this whole time?”

“Why, to ogle me, of course, you big old perv.”

Harry clicked his tongue.

Draco felt him part his lips with his thumb. Harry pushed the single digit into his mouth and Draco felt it press down heavily on his tongue, effectively gagging him. He had absolutely no way of moving his tongue and without it, he couldn’t articulate himself. He briefly thought about biting down on Harry’s thumb but he wasn’t prepared for the repercussions and abandoned the idea instantly.

“Such a well-mannered little prince yet such a naughty and potty mouth.”

Draco wanted to remind Harry that he liked his sass but he still had no way of responding and letting out a frustrated whine, he closed his lips around Harry’s thumb instead.

Harry braced himself on the table and leant forward. When he pressed his lips to his ear, Draco inhaled sharply through his nose and something fluttered deep down in the pit of his stomach.

“What with your current state of undress you really ought to watch what you say while you're wearing my collar, my little prince. Calling me a perv when it would be so easy for me to drag you to your feet and force you to bend over the table to give you a firm spanking is just plain stupid, my love. I did see a plastic spatula in the kitchen drawer, it’ll sting nicely, I promise you. Or if you’d prefer, I did bring a riding crop with me, I could always summon it.”

Draco whimpered.

His breathing hitched and much to his own embarrassment he felt his cock react to Harry’s deliberate teasing. He was unequivocally reminding him of who was in charge and to make matters worse, Harry didn’t stop there. His hand left his cheek and trailed down his chest. He wrapped it around his hardening cock and squeezed.

Draco made a pathetic attempt at swallowing some of the salivae that pooled in his mouth.

“My little prince, I kept you naked because I thoroughly enjoy looking at you. I also kept you naked to continuously remind you of the fact that you’re mine and that I will take you whenever, wherever, and however I please. I could have made you kneel on the floor in front of the sofa and suck me off while I enjoyed the movie. I could have bent over any piece of furniture and repeatedly fucked you hard before shoving a butt plug up your tight hole to keep my come inside you. I could have made you pleasure yourself with a dildo of my choice and made you abuse your prostate and orgasm nonstop or until you beg me to show you some mercy. I could have teased you and brought you to the edge and then kept you there all this time. I could have made you beg for your release for hours on end only to continually deny you the pleasure altogether. You’re mine, my little prince, and it pleases me for you to know that. It pleases me to keep you naked. I want to see all of you all the time, you do not have the right to hide your body for me. It’s _mine_.”

“ _Ngh_.”

Draco wanted to howl.

He was rock-hard and his entire body was on fire, throbbing and thrumming with an unquenchable desire to come.

While Harry was stroking his cock, the touch was neither satisfying nor enough to bring him closer to his own release. He wanted all the filthy stuff Harry had just whispered into his ear. He wanted it with every fibre of his being and he wasn’t above begging for it.

When Harry pulled back and pierced him with his smouldering dark green eyes, Draco shivered and shuddered.

He let out another desperate whimper and tried to remember why he’d felt self-conscious about being naked in front of Harry but his brain refused to cooperate.

In fact, it felt like it was about to stop working altogether.

It was too busy trying _and failing_ , to process all the dirty images, Harry had just put in there, and Draco felt like he might just explode with sheer need. His lust levels were through the roof and he wanted Harry to ravish him. If it wasn’t for his inability to move and speak, he’d be on his knees begging and pleading already.

He also couldn’t fathom how Harry managed to be so completely devious yet look as cool as a cucumber.

_Please, please, please_ , Draco thought and tried to focus on his erratic breathing.

For the love of Salazar Slytherin, they hadn’t just discussed the weather! How on earth was it bloody possible for Harry to be this calm and collected while he was seconds away from losing his sanity?

Draco desperately wanted to scream to relieve his frustration but Harry was still gagging him with his thumb and he couldn’t quite get his brain to obey him. He tried closing his eyes instead. He couldn’t do that while staring at Harry. That nonchalant expression was driving him insane.

“No, you don’t. Look at me!”

Harry’s command was firm and in his current state of mind, Draco knew he had no hope in hell of resisting. His eyes snapped open again and he stared up at Harry who was smiling devilishly.

He stopped teasing his cock, removed his thumb from Draco’s mouth, straightened up, and casually returned to his seat.

“Eat your dinner, my little prince,” he said and picked up his fork.

Draco watched him take the first bite and groaned.

He picked up his own fork with a trembling hand and was about start eating when Harry offered him a diced piece of lightly fried chicken breast from his own plate.

Draco didn’t even hesitate.

He parted his lips immediately and accepted the food offering. He kept his eyes on Harry, chewed carefully, and swallowed.

“Thank you, Sir.”

The words slipped out of his mouth before he had the conscious thought to stop himself. A treacherous voice tried telling him that he was old enough and didn’t need anyone feeding him but he resolutely shoved that nagging voice to the farthest, darkest corner of his mind.

Right this moment, he was ready to kneel at Harry’s feet and beg him to feed him his dinner, bite by bite. In his current condition, forcing himself to concentrate on eating his own food seemed like too advanced a task to complete. He could feel the haze settle all around him and every single nerve-ending in his body had attuned itself to Harry.

_You are all that matters,_ he thought and frowned when Harry snapped his fingers and summoned the clothes he’d been wearing earlier today. They landed, folded into a neat pile at the end of the table, and Draco stared at them with apprehension.

“If you want to put your clothes back on, you may do so, my little prince. I will not hold it against you and I certainly won’t be upset.”

Draco could tell that Harry was being sincere and the gesture meant the world to him but those clothes suddenly felt like a thorn painfully digging into his side.

Just looking at them made him feel uncomfortable.

He didn’t want them.

He wanted to stay naked.

He wanted to continue basking in those lingering gazes and the incredible heat that shone in Harry’s eyes whenever he looked at him.

Somehow, Harry had managed to remove his inhibitions completely and he couldn’t come up with a single reason as to why getting dressed was a good idea.

Right now, he never wanted to wear clothes ever again. He had no idea whether he’d ever been this turned on before but he didn’t think so. He was so thoroughly desperate that he was seconds away from begging Harry to fuck him already. Or just bend him over the dinner table and pin him down, leaving him with no option to escape while Harry had full control over everything. Literally, anything was acceptable to him right now. He didn’t think he had it in him to say no, the word held no meaning.

What he wanted was to say _yes, yes, yes_ , repeatedly, and as often as possible.

“Sir, _please_ , I don’t want them.”

“Are you sure? A couple of minutes ago you were adamant about not wanting to be naked.”

“ _Ngh_ , Harry, please, don’t mindfuck me, I can’t take it. I don’t want them, I swear. I beg you, disappear them, _please_!”

Harry reached out to him and squeezed his forearm. Draco watched him put his fork down and snap his fingers. The clothes disappeared and a wave of relief flooded Draco. A strange sort of calmness followed and feeling a tiny little bit more like himself, he started eating.

“Thank you,” he whispered, glancing at Harry with a shy smile.

“My pleasure, my little prince. Anything for you. Now eat. We can talk later; the night is young still and you need your strength.”

The implied meaning was obvious and Draco suddenly wanted to gobble his dinner down with several large bites but he had the distinct feeling that Harry wouldn’t let him get away with that. He took a deep breath to calm his frayed nerves and stuffing a forkful of stir-fry into his mouth, he tried to mentally prepare himself for whatever Harry had planned for them. He couldn’t even fathom what was going on inside Harry’s devious mind but his excitement was rising steadily.

“Is this what things would be like if we had a contract?” he asked curiously.

Harry met his gaze, held it for a few moments, then smiled.

“Yes, my little prince, something of the sort.”

The straight-forward answer nearly drove Draco out of his mind and it took him every ounce of self-control not to put his fork down, sink to his knees and beg Harry to stop the charade already.

Part of him wanted to tell Harry that he was ready but his current state of mind and his inability to think objectively positively terrified him.

No matter how much he wanted to plead with Harry to sign that damn piece of paper that officially turned their relationship into a D/s type arrangement, he knew that making big decisions while in an altered state of mind was completely insane. He also knew that Harry would never agree to it. There was simply no point in asking.

He firmly ignored his desire, pushed any and all thoughts of signing a D/s contract with Harry out of his mind and resolutely focused on his dinner.

He had a strange feeling that he would regret it if Harry had to remind him once more. He was sure that he would end up with a punishment he wouldn’t enjoy and tonight that was the last thing he wanted. He also didn’t want to upset Harry. He wanted to please him and he wanted it so badly that he could hardly bring himself to concentrate on anything else.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The beauty of submission is that a submissive has the option of listening to no one but he/she chooses to put all of his/her faith and trust in the Dominant's hands and submit by their free will. It is something other people will never understand."


	49. Rope Tales

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After yesterday's lengthy note, I've not got much to say today, except, please do enjoy!
> 
> Love,  
> Selly x

* * *

The bed shook as Draco flopped onto it, yet unsurprisingly, he managed to be completely graceful about it the way he let himself fall.

Harry looked up from his laptop screen and smiled.

The New Year’s Eve had come and gone and now, two days into the new year, they were still content to stay scooped up at the log home in the cosy little bubble they had created for themselves.

Draco stretched out, cat-like, fixed his silvery-grey eyes on him and pulled himself into a kneeling position with his heels firmly pressing into his taut, round buttocks. He remained in that position for a few moments, then shuffled onto all fours and suggestively crawled across the wide bed and over to Harry.

Despite having cultivated a remarkable amount of decorum and an iron will to remain nonchalant, Harry found himself shuffling into a slightly more comfortable position as his cock showed a definite interest in Draco’s gloriously naked form.

He couldn’t quite remember the last time he’d seen Draco fully dressed.

Ever since their little experiment a few days ago, he seemed, much to Harry’s delight, to be completely at ease prancing about the place in his birthday suit. Harry suspected it was because Draco knew just how much of a kick it gave him to know that Harry loved every minute that Draco was naked — for him and him alone.

Harry couldn’t see himself getting bored with devouring Draco with his eyes any time soon. The striking beauty of all the pale flesh that was on display, and the way his muscles flexed whenever Draco moved, evoked strong feelings of appreciation in Harry and he shamelessly swept his eyes over every inch of Draco’s body, drinking it all in, just like he’d done so many times over the last few days.

A handful of deep purple love bites marred Draco’s skin and he let his gaze linger on the marks that stood out so beautifully. Just seeing them there was enough for Harry to feel extremely possessive and he licked his lips and imaged leaving a couple more marks all over Draco. A few bite marks and perhaps the one or other imprint of his hand after a sensual spanking.

Draco curled up beside him, snuggled close, and rested his head on his thigh. Harry instinctively wrapped an arm around him, traced one of the love bites on his upper arm and gently pressed the tip of his finger against it. Draco let out a low whimper and twisted his head to look up at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Reminiscing.”

Harry smiled and ran his fingers through Draco’s soft blond locks. They tickled his palm and he wound his fingers into the silky strands and tugged a little — not enough to hurt, never that, just a possessive little gesture.

Draco hummed in approval and his eyelids fluttered with indecision; to close or to remain open. Harry thoroughly liked the fact that presently this was Draco’s only worry. These last few days, Draco had been utterly carefree. There was a tempting youthful grace about him that reminded Harry about their time at Hogwarts and the first time he’d consciously noticed that Draco was more than just a thorn in his side but a truly beautiful teenage boy who’d grown into a fine young man.

Since the start of their prolonged little game of power play, Harry had made it his mission to show Draco how to bask in his submission. He’d made all the decisions, including when Draco got up, showered, what he ate for breakfast and what they did throughout the day, when and how they had sex, and when they went to bed.

He’d made it very clear to Draco that he could veto any of his decisions, could end it all with one simple word but every time he’d reminded Draco of the fact that he held all the cards, and could end it all, Draco had simply looked at him for several moments, nodded, and then inclined his head in silent acknowledgement. A coy sort of smile seemed to perpetually play around the edges of his mouth. It also twinkled in his eyes, which shone brightly and said what Draco either didn’t want to or couldn’t put into words — he was comfortable, he wanted to be free of the chore of making decisions, he wanted to let go and just be.

Harry was more than happy to provide that environment. To him being in charge wasn’t a chore. It was something he enjoyed, something he relished in, and the fact that Draco trusted him enough to willingly surrender to him and obey his orders made it all the sweeter because whenever Harry looked at him he didn’t just see Draco’s submissive side but he also saw the man he’d fallen helplessly in love with, the one person he wanted to keep at his side for as long as he could imagine.

Draco lay still for a moment, then shuffled, moved a little closer still and shifted his attention towards Harry’s laptop. Harry didn’t use it very often, but occasionally his Muggle connections demanded that he check in with them and the internet and emails were the fastest way to go about it, especially because his Muggle mobile phone perpetually showed him that he had no signal — an adverse reaction to his magic. Somehow, the laptop seemed less receptive to his magic.

When Draco had left their bed some twenty minutes ago in search for something sweet to nibble on, after asking for permission, of course, Harry had jumped at the opportunity to look at his unread emails. They’d been piling up for a couple of days and he didn’t like looking at a messy inbox full of unread emails that were waiting for a response.

“Pandora’s Box. That’s the BDSM club you’re a member of, isn’t it?” Draco asked.

“Hm, yes, good memory.”

“I have perfect recall, it’s what makes me such an excellent prosecutor.”

“You aren’t at all modest, are you?”

“Not when it comes to my job. You know that.”

“I do. And you shouldn’t be. You’re absolutely brilliant at what you do.”

“I know.”

Harry chuckled.

Draco’s arrogance and his unfaltering believe that he was the best at what he did whenever he donned his prosecutor’s robes was a thorough turn on. He continued to run his fingers through Draco’s hair, traced the line of his jaw and gently pressed his thumb to his lips. Draco kissed it, then focused back on the screen and Harry resumed idly playing with his hair, relishing in the moment.

“ _Rope Tales: Bonds of Love_. What’s that all about?” Draco asked curiously.

“Bondage,” Harry replied. “The club is hosting a Shibari event at the beginning of March. Caleb’s suggested that I participate and show off my rigging skills. The owner just emailed me to ask if I’m interested.”

“What do you mean by participating?”

Harry didn’t miss the slightly jealous undertone and when Draco moved to sit up, he didn’t stop him.

Draco frowned and fixed him with a dark look.

“ _Potter_ , you better not have RSVP’d without talking to me about this first.”

He sounded scathing.

Harry smiled.

“Feeling just a little proprietorial, are we, Malfoy?”

“Naturally, I’m your boyfriend and I’m absolutely and unequivocally not okay with you tying other people up.”

“Does that mean I’ve got quit job?”

Harry deliberately teased and Draco scowled in annoyance.

“What does your job have to do with it?”

“Well, the _Incarcerous_ spell is a lot handier than magical shackles. I use it all the time and I also remember, quite fondly, the one and only time you ever used it on me. It resulted in some rather hot sex; don’t you think so?”

Draco rolled his eyes but Harry did not miss the tiny tremor that surged through him at the reminder of the very first time they’d ever had sex.

“Funny, Potter, really funny. I’m laughing my socks off.”

“You’re not wearing any, you haven’t in a few days. Besides, I was being serious,” Harry said but didn’t quite manage to suppress the amused glint in his eyes.

“Do you get off on conjuring magical ropes and restraining criminals in them?”

“No. However, if you want me to be honest, I wouldn’t be opposed to a little bit of roleplay with you acting the perpetrator who is on the run and me chasing and capturing you. I know exactly what I’d do with you.”

Harry moved his hand and trailed his fingertips slowly over the inside of Draco’s thigh, teasing him. He delighted in the way Draco’s breath hitched and his eyes darkened with growing arousal.

“You’re trying to be distracting,” Draco said.

He shot him a black look, and quite pointedly swatted his hand away.

“Back to the fact that you’re planning to partake in a public event that requires the usage of rope on a total stranger. I veto this. _Objection_!”

Draco crossed his arms over his chest and looked anything but pleased.

Harry suppressed most of his annoyance over Draco’s unfounded jealousy but fixed him with a long hard look.

“Draco. I neither like your tone of voice nor what you are suggesting and I find the fact that you’re making me justify myself utterly displeasing.”

Harry purposefully resolved to use his Dom-voice and it had the desired effect.

He couldn’t deny that he most definitely liked the way Draco flinched at hearing his words.

His eyes flickered with a hint of fear and he worried his bottom lip, then after a moment’s hesitation, he uncrossed his arms and nervously toyed with his fingers, twisting them together and pulling them apart, then repeating the process several times over. Harry reached out, placed his hand on top of Draco’s and squeezed gently. He continued with a much softer voice.

“When you walked back in the room, I’d literally just opened the email. Do you honestly believe I would partake in an event like that without talking to you first?”

Draco had the decency to look sheepish.

“Sorry— I think I just saw red.”

Harry chuckled.

“You most definitely did. It was kind of endearing. Your possessive side is quite something, still, you’ve got to listen to all the facts. That’s what you do when you’re working your magic as a first-class prosecutor and it’s also a trait, I want you to apply to our relationship.”

Draco stuck out his bottom lip in an adorable little pout. He didn’t often show this side of him, a slightly childish, sulky, and rather boyish part of him, and whenever he did, Harry liked him even more. The way he pushed his bottom lip forward in an expression of petulant annoyance made him look extremely sexually attractive and it took Harry every ounce of self-control not to pounce on his man.

Suddenly, it didn’t matter that he’d claimed Draco last night, and twice this morning, he wanted to do it all over again.

“You’re not the only one in this relationship who feels possessive, Potter.”

“Why, Draco, you say the sweetest things.”

“Do I melt Sir’s fierce and dominant heart?” Draco asked with a sly grin.

Harry inhaled sharply and narrowed his eyes. He knew exactly what Draco was playing at and instead of remaining calm and collected he allowed Draco to goad him into a reaction.

He snapped the lid of his laptop shut, moved the device to his nightstand and lunging forward, he tackled Draco, wrestled him into a horizontal position and effortlessly pinned him to the bed.

Caught by surprise, Draco yelped, and struggled and fought him every step of the way but Harry was stronger and relentless. He straddled Draco’s thighs, effectively trapping them, and grabbing Draco’s wrists, he pushed them into the mattress above his head and leant forward. He let his breath ghost over Draco’s lips, then pulled back a little and stared directly into his eyes. Draco swallowed hard and whimpered.

“Draco Malfoy, you melted my fierce and dominant heart a long time ago,” Harry whispered then swooped in and captured his lips in a zealous kiss.

Draco melted underneath him and surrendered to the kiss, allowing Harry to claim his mouth, allowing him to tease and taunt him with his tongue.

Harry deepened the kiss and feeling just a little intoxicated, he didn’t break away until the burning sensation in his chest got too intense to ignore.

He wrenched his mouth away and breathing deeply, he tried to fill his lungs with as much oxygen as possible.

Draco panted beneath him and looked up at him with dark eyes that sparkled with intense longing and the desire for Harry to take him, control him, dominate him, possess him. His rather prominent erection pressed against Harry’s stomach and Harry’s own strained against the confines of his black boxer briefs — he hadn’t bothered to wear more than that but even the fact that he could conceal his private parts with a pair of snug-fitting boxer briefs while Draco had to remain naked set them apart.

“Mine,” Harry breathed, kicking eloquence to the curb.

He squeezed Draco’s wrists tightly and pressed them further into the mattress. The action forced a whimper to fall from Draco’s lips.

“You’re mine and I’m not letting you go. Not ever. It’s going to take your safeword for me to let you walk away from me in this lifetime.”

“That won’t be necessary, I’ve no intention of walking away.”

“That’s good.”

“Same goes for you, Potter, the only way you’re walking away from this is you safeword out of this relationship.”

“Not going to happen.”

“That better be a promise, _Sir_ , because you’ve already ruined me for everyone else.”

Harry chuckled.

He pressed a quick kiss to Draco’s luscious swollen lips, sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and bit it. Draco moaned and when Harry pulled away, he stuck out his tongue and soothed the bite with a tiny lick, then let out a shaky breath.

“My little prince, I haven’t even started to ruin you. The things I could do to you, you have absolutely no idea.”

“That dark twisted mind of yours is seriously scary, Potter.”

“Is it? Is it really? Because I think you love every second of it.”

Draco flushed and inhaled sharply.

He didn’t say anything, but Harry didn’t need him to. He knew that Draco enjoyed everything they did. He loved the power play and whenever he submitted, he positively blossomed. He let go of his sass and his assertiveness and fully surrendered and it was beautiful to watch. So beautiful that each time it happened, it tore at Harry’s heartstrings and his chest tightened as it desperately tried to contain his pounding heart and the love and admiration he felt for the man, who had, in less than a year, managed to turn his life upside down by falling for him line, hook, and sinker.

To Harry, Draco’s explicit trust was everything.

It was what they’d built their relationship on and feeling just a little emotional, Harry blinked and pressed a kiss to Draco’s lips.

“I love you. And I promise you, I’ll always take care of you. With me, you’ll always be able to feel safe, I’ll make sure of that.”

He whispered the words, unable to bring himself to clear his throat enough to speak loudly and clearly.

“I love you too.”

Draco’s lack of hesitation sent a jolt of electricity down Harry’s spine.

 _This better be forever, Malfoy, because nothing else will do for me_ , he thought, mildly terrified of the intensity of his feelings for Draco.

He swallowed past the thick lump in his throat and loosening his hold on Draco’s wrists, he rolled off him and lay down on his side, pulling him into his arms. He threw one leg over Draco’s thigh and sighed contently when Draco shuffled that little bit closer.

They lay in silence, alternating between staring into each other’s eyes and sharing several heated kisses. Harry wound the fingers of his left hand into Draco’s hair and let his other hand travel over the vast expanse of warm pale skin in front of him. His cock tried to urge him to take things further but Harry resolutely ignored the intense thrumming desire that pulsed low in his groin.

One look into Draco’s eyes told him that he felt much the same.

Some twenty minutes of tranquil silence went by before Draco broke it.

“Harry?” he asked tentatively, looking a little embarrassed.

“Hm.”

“That bondage event at the club. Do you want to take part in that?”

“Only if you’re okay with it.”

“I don’t want you tying up other people.”

“Duly noted. Can I tie you up?”

A soft smile ghosted around the edges of Draco’s mouth and he looked somewhat sheepish.

“Yes— but— but— I— I don’t want other people watching. I’m not comfortable with other people seeing me naked. Seeing me— submit to you.”

“You could wear underwear and a blindfold. You’d be such a stunning bondage model, I’d enjoy every second of wrapping you up in the finest ropes and tying knot after knot, creating a living breathing piece of art.”

Harry felt the shudder that surged through Draco.

“Harry, no, _please_. I want that to be between us.”

“I would never make you do this, my love. If you ever wanted to be my bondage model, that would be entirely your decision.”

“Can’t I just be your little prince?”

Harry chuckled.

“You _are_ my little prince. My gorgeous little prince, my sweet, sexy little prince.”

Draco blushed.

“Stop.”

“Why? Don’t you like it when I praise you?”

Harry tenderly brushed the back of his hand over Draco’s cheek and kissed him.

“You’re my perfect handsome little prince. I love everything about you.”

“Even my temper and my sass?”

Harry smiled.

“Especially that. I love when you give me sass and I love your submission.”

Draco blushed even harder and buried his face in Harry’s chest. He let out soft mewl and Harry kissed the top of his head. He trailed his fingertips up and down Draco’s spine, teasing him with gentle caresses that drew several low moans from the depths of Draco’s throat and eventually pulled his head back and fixed him with a positively wanton stare.

“Harry, could we— could we attend the event as a couple?”

“Is that what you want?”

Draco nodded and swallowed hard.

“Alright. I’ll RSVP and tell them I won’t be participating but that me and my partner will attend as guests.”

“You know, Potter, _my partner and I_ is a lot more courteous but it’s not like you’d know that.”

Harry smirked.

“Is it now?”

“Yes.”

“Well, if you insist on debating the finer points of the English language, let’s not ignore that according to the alphabet, _D_ for Dominant comes before _s_ for submissive.”

Draco groaned.

“Are you serious, Potter? You’re going to pull the Dominant card here, too?”

“Oh, absolutely.

“You are completely incorrigible, _Sir_.”

“And you’re bratty.”

“You love it.”

“Do I?”

“Yeah,” Draco winked. “And if you don’t, I’m sure you’ll think of something devious that’ll turn me into an obedient little pet for _Sir_.”

“Still not over your pet play kink, huh? Do you need me to get your collar and leash?”

“Are you going to take me out for a walk?”

Harry quirked a curious eyebrow at Draco and chuckled with amusement.

“Collared and leashed? My, Draco, you do know how to make all my wet dreams come true, don’t you?”

Draco hesitated for a moment and his earlier boldness dissolved. His cheeks flamed and he looked rather self-conscious.

“Well, maybe lose the leash, but I’d like to—”

He trailed off and fell silent, gnawed at his bottom lip as he did so.

Harry gave him a moment to compose himself and finish his thought.

“We could take a trip into the city this afternoon. It’s freezing outside, I’d have to wear a scarf anyway. I’d like to wear the collar underneath if it’s all the same to you.”

“I like the idea of this, I really like it.”

“I figured you would.”

“Don’t do it for me, Draco. Do it because you want to,” Harry said and caressed Draco’s cheek gently. “Do it because you want to submit and because you want to please me, do it because you feel you need me to be in control, even outside this cabin.”

Draco let out a low whine.

“ _Ngh_ , Harry, you know I want to. I just may need, you know, need a little convincing. A little bit of help, _please_.”

Harry smiled.

He had no problem with doing that. Throughout the last few months, he’d gently convinced Draco to try a lot of new things and to continue to push him further into exploring his submissive side was something he most definitely wanted to do.

Ever since they’d had dinner with Charlie, Ginny, Ron and Hermione, Draco hadn’t worn the collar in public and the idea of him doing so turned Harry on quite a bit.

Nobody would be able to see Draco wear it but they’d both know.

Draco would be able to feel it rest snuggly around his neck, a constant reminder of his submission and Harry, well, he would know it was there and the thought of that alone drove him sheer crazy with desire.

“If you’re wearing the collar in public, I may just ravish you somewhere, you know, drag you off into a secluded corner or assault you in the men’s room, or wank you under the table—”

Draco stared at him with dark, lust-laden eyes, blinked once and swallowed, then licked his lips.

“I was hoping you might, Sir,” he rasped.

His voice was dripping with arousal and desire.

Harry let out a low growl and pushing Draco onto his back, he climbed on top of him.

“If you want to wear your collar in public, then I have a condition of my own.”

Draco’s breathing hitched and his eyes darkened even further.

“What condition?” he asked breathlessly.

“A butt plug, you’ll wear a butt plug for me for the afternoon, for as long as we’re out in town. Something snug that’ll keep you loose and open for me, something to give you a constant reminder of who owns your arse. I want that tight hole of yours ready to take my cock whenever I want to.”

Draco whimpered and as if to make his point, Harry thrust his hips forward, rubbing their erections together.

“But first I’m going to make you kneel at my feet and suck me off. You’ll do that, won’t you, my little prince? You’ll be a good boy and get on your knees for me. You’ll take my cock, swallow it right down and you’ll suck me until I spurt my come down your throat. You’ll swallow every drop, and you won’t waste anything of it.”

Draco moaned, his eyelids fluttered and he licked his lips. Harry continued to rub their cocks together, creating delicious friction.

“ _Ngh_ , Harry.”

“Say it, say you’ll be my good boy.”

“Fuck— Harry, I—”

“Say it,” Harry pushed and Draco went cross-eyed and panted.

“I— I will be your good boy.”

“Yes, you will. You absolutely will. Tell me, do you like being good for me, my little prince.”

Draco let out another low moan.

“Merlin— Fuck, yes!”

“Less of that vulgar language now, my love, unless you want me to douse your cock with ice water. It’ll make that erection go right down, believe me. So, if you want that, keep on swearing.”

“ _Ngh_ , Harry, no, please.”

Harry smiled and sat back on his haunches. He settled in-between Draco’s spread legs and gently caressed the insides of his thighs. Draco let out a low moan and holding his hand out, Harry summoned an inconspicuous-looking black average-sized silicone anal plug.

Draco’s eyes widened and he stared at it with a quivering bottom lip. His chest rose and fell rapidly and he trembled a little.

“You were serious, weren’t you?” he breathed shakily.

“I absolutely was.”

“I— _ngh_ , fu— I, _Salazar_!”

“I’m going to have so much fun with you this afternoon, my little prince.”

“You’re going to be the death of me, Potter.”

“Ah no, I promise I’ll give you the kiss of life before it gets to that. You know, I’ll always take good care of you.”

Harry reached out, took Draco’s hand, and entwined their fingers. He squeezed gently and the gesture seemed to calm Draco a little. He focused and held his gaze.

“Do you want to do this, my love?”

Draco took a deep breath and nodded.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good boy, now spread your legs, spread them wide. Let me see that gorgeous hole of yours.”

Draco shivered but moved his thighs apart, exposing himself to Harry. He lay flat on his back, with his hands above his head and his legs spread open wide. His chest was rapidly rising and falling. He’d parted his lips and the tip of his pink tongue darted out and coated his upper lip, wetting it.

Harry smiled.

He ran the butt plug along the inside of Draco’s spread legs, teasing him with the toy. Draco’s breathing remained ragged and every so often a tiny shudder surged through him. Harry teased Draco’s hard cock with the plug, rubbed it against his balls and applied just the right amount of pressure for Draco to whimper and spread his legs that little bit wider.

“How much do you want it, my little prince?”

“ _Ngh_ , please.”

Draco huffed the quiet plea out on a low breath of air which eventually became a low moan. Harry applied a little more pressure and Draco whimpered.

“Do you want me to fuck you with the plug, my little prince? Or do you just want to feel it in you?”

“Anything, Sir, anything, please.”

“Anything, huh?”

Harry chuckled softly and while he summoned a bottle of lube from the open top drawer in his nightstand, he rubbed the plug along Draco’s perineum and along pressed the dry toy against his hole, gently forcing the muscles to flex and clench as they resisted the intrusion. Harry had no intention of breaching past the muscle just yet but he continued to toy with Draco, continued to drive him wanted, continued to whisper a load of obscenities into the room. His avalanche of lewd suggestions had the desired effect and before long, Draco shamelessly begged him for the plug.

Feeling devious, Harry denied him. Instead, he placed it on the bed and applying a generous amount of lube to his fingers, he slowly worked first one and then a second one inside Draco’s tight hole. He teased his prostate to the brink of an orgasm, then pulled back and pressing his lubricated thumb to Draco’s hole, he circled the furled flesh, teasing and stimulating it until Draco was, once again, begging him for more.

Harry ignored his begging and leaving Draco’s hole alone, he reached for the plug, coated it with a thick layer of long-lasting sensation-heightening lube and slowly worked it into Draco. He took his sweet time, inching the toy inside, then dragging it out again and while he did that he took Draco’s balls, squeezed them gently and toyed with them, rubbing his fingers along them, rolling them around in the palm of his hand, squeezing, and tugging a little.

Draco whimpered and moaned and begged for more, pleaded for his release and Harry deviously pushed the plug all the way inside and adjusted it a little to move into place, then pulled away and wandlessly cast a cleaning charm to remove the excess lube from his hands and Draco’s balls.

“How do you feel?”

“Full. Stretched.”

“Good or bad?”

“Good.”

Draco let out a long breath of air and Harry moved to straddle his hips and kissed him.

“You did so well, my precious little prince. I can’t wait to take you out, knowing that you’ll have that plug inside you, pressing and pushing against all the right place, keeping you right on the edge for me for when we get back and I can continue to play with you.”

Draco smiled up at him. It was that coy smile that drove Harry beyond wild and summoning Draco’s collar, which he’d helped Draco to take off last night before they’d showered together, and not bothered to put back on in the morning, he gently worked it around Draco’s neck, then fastened the clasp at the front, before twisting it by one-hundred-and-eighty degrees. He hooked two fingers into the collar, ensuring that it was loose enough and wouldn’t choke Draco, and tugging on it, he possessively captured Draco’s lips in a deep kiss, one that left him breathless.

“Someone promised me to let me fuck their pretty mouth before we head out into town.”

He smirked and Draco’s eyes darkened considerably, appearing almost black.

Shuffling back, Harry moved off the bed and then casually leant against the bedroom wall on the opposite side of the room. He beckoned Draco to come closer and watched as he crawled to the edge of the bed. There, Draco stopped for a second and when he was about to lower his right foot to the ground, Harry clicked his tongue.

“No, my little prince, continue to crawl. I want you to crawl over to me and worship my cock and then I want you to thank me for letting you drink my come and plugging you so that you’re ready for a lot more fun later.”

Draco hesitated, then swallowed hard and with a nod, he crawled off the bed and over to Harry, mewling as his arse swayed from side to side. Harry knew that he could feel the plug move inside him and that it was snuggling pressing against his prostate, further stimulating the already excited walnut-sized pleasure point.

Palming himself through his underwear, Harry watched Draco’s every move, then when he kneeled at his feet and sat back on his haunches, he pulled his briefs down just far enough for his hard cock to spring free.

“Come here, sweet one, work your magic,” he whispered and Draco licked his lips.

He shuffled a little closer, ran the palms of his hands up Harry’s thighs, squeezed his hips, then brought his head forward and engulfed his cock, swallowing it deep.

“Hands behind your back,” Harry instructed and Draco obeyed.

Harry wound his fingers tightly into Draco’s hair and holding on, he began to slowly thrust into Draco’s mouth while Draco sucked and licked on his cock.

By choice, he didn’t last especially long but let Draco’s skilled tongue and the warmth of his wet mouth and smooth lips, drag him over the edge some five minutes later. He groaned and filling Draco’s mouth with his come, he watched and felt him swallow, then let his head rest back against the wall and inhaled deeply while Draco suckled him dry and then, just before it became too sensitive for Harry to bear, he stopped and simply held his softening cock in his mouth.

Harry took a moment to gather his wits about him, then, with his fingers still tightly wound into Draco’s hair, he slowly pulled out of his mouth and smiled down at him.

“Perfect,” he whispered breathlessly.

“Thank you, Sir. Thank you for letting me suck you, I love drinking your come.”

Harry only barely managed to swallow the groan that wanted to escape his throat. He’d fully expected to have to coax the words from Draco’s lips. He had not been prepared to hear them spoken so freely and without an ounce of shame and he couldn’t quite help but curse refractory periods. He really wanted to remove that plug, flip Draco over, grab him by the collar, drag the butt plug back out of him and fuck him hard.

Consoling himself with the fantasy, Harry gently caressed Draco’s flushed cheek.

“You’re such a good boy,” he praised.

* * *

* * *

“Draco?” Harry called from the living room.

“Just a sec, one more plate then I’m all yours.”

Harry smiled.

“You’re always all mine,” he mumbled to himself but didn’t harass Draco into cleaning the dishes any faster.

They’d spend a lovely afternoon in the city, checking out a few shops and enjoying a cup of coffee and some sweet pastries but when he’d suggested that they eat out, Draco had pleaded with him to return to the lodge and when he’d asked him to tell him why; he’d confessed that he wanted to cook again instead of sitting in a restaurant and waiting to be served.

The sincerity in his eyes and his evident desire to return to domestic bliss in the comforts of their oversized log home had made the decision easy for Harry and he’d dragged Draco into a secluded corner from which they’d apparated straight back onto the grounds of their holiday home.

Instead of heading straight back inside, Harry had cheekily roped Draco into a snowball fight and within seconds he’d found himself bombarded with sphere after sphere of balled up snow. He’d let Draco get away with it for the longest time, then slyly ambushed him from behind and tackling him to the ground, they’d rolled about the thick white snow, kissing and play-fighting, until the snow had soaked through their clothes.

Only then had he been able to persuade Draco to head back inside, although before allowing Draco to scramble back onto his feet, he’d pinned him down with his arms raised above his head and his spread legs securely restrained. A drawn-out kiss and a mumbled incantation later had resulted in Draco feeling the butt plug move against his prostate, stimulating it until he breathlessly begged for mercy, which Harry hadn’t granted him. Instead, he’d pushed Draco right over the edge, making him orgasm, repeatedly, right out there in the snow, desperately wriggling beneath him with no hope of escaping.

They’d returned inside the log home, dripping wet. Draco had been slightly unsteady on his feet and Harry had helped him upstairs and into the bathroom where they’d enjoyed a long soak in the massive bathtub. Afterwards, Harry had offered to help him cook but Draco had declined his help, saying he wanted Harry to just go and relax on the sofa and that he would take care of dinner, that he wanted to do it for them both.

Harry’s memory of the look in Draco’s eyes still ignited something in the depths of his chest and his heart fluttered excitedly. He knew exactly why Draco had said those words and this time it hadn’t been because he’d wanted to please him. Yes, a small part of him wanted to please but a larger part of him, and Harry was sure of that, wanted to cook because it was yet another way for him to show his submission.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Draco asked as he approached the sofa, pulling Harry right out of his thoughts.

Harry turned his head and smirked. Draco had yet to take his apron off and he looked utterly delectable in the light-blue garment. It was the only piece of clothing he was wearing and as he moved his hands behind his back to undo the knot, Harry clicked his tongue and shook his head.

“No, leave it on for now. Come, sit here next to me, instead, OK?”

Draco nodded and his hands dropped to his sides. He came closer and elegantly sat down. When he went to cross one leg over the other, Harry placed his hand on his left knee and squeezed gently.

“Don’t. I want you to keep your legs uncrossed. Let it remind you that you should never deny me access.”

Draco let out a low groan and sinking further into the cushions, he rested his head back and turned it sideways to look at Harry. At the same time, he spread his legs a little further apart.

“You’ll be the death of me, Potter,” he whispered.

Harry smiled.

“Seems like a good way to go, if you ask me.”

Draco rolled his eyes but said nothing. Harry moved his hand a little higher up his thigh and letting it rest halfway between his knee and his groin, he squeezed a little, digging his fingernails softly into the sensitive flesh.

“I've got a question for you, my little prince.”

“What question?”

“These last few days; we’ve never played for more than a few hours at a time yet you’ve not asked me to stop since we started this little game three days ago. What do you think about submitting to me for several days at a time?”

Draco shrugged.

“To be honest, I’ve not had much of a chance to think. It feels like you’ve permanently relocated my brain to my crotch.”

Harry chuckled.

“While I love your amusing sass, I’d quite like a serious answer to my question, if you’re willing to give me one. If not, please tell me whether you’d like to have this conversation another time.”

Draco’s smile slowly faded and a more sincere expression replaced it. He remained silent for a couple of minutes, then cleared his throat.

“I've got the feeling you already know everything I’m going to tell you.”

“Perhaps I do but I’d still like to hear it from you, in your own voice, in your own words.”

Draco let out a small sigh and closed his eyes. He kept them closed for a moment or two, then opened them again and focused.

“I don’t know how to describe it, honestly I don’t. The first day, I was just looking for you to take over control for a bit and I thought that you might ravish me but then you surprised me by just tying me up and blindfolding me and it gave me some time to think.”

“What did you think about?”

“At first just this and that, nothing special, but then, the longer you kept me tied to that beam, I just couldn’t stop thinking how good it felt to let go. You had no expectations, all you wanted from me was to remain kneeling with my ankles and wrists tied together and a piece of silk covering my eyes. I just— it didn’t seem difficult; it was such a simple request and I focused on it. I think I let it consume me.”

“Afterwards you did feel self-conscious about being naked in front of me.”

“I did but then you got all Dominant and you took control and you twisted my mind and I was just gone. It felt a little like I was coming out of submission but not ready for it and my mind played havoc with my thoughts. Then you took control, pushed me right back down and I think my last conscious thought was that it’s nice to not have to make any decisions, it’s nice not to have to care about anything.”

“Do you still feel that way now?”

Draco nodded, then his cheeks flushed pink and he averted his gaze. Harry let him, giving him a moment of silence to refocus and organise his thoughts, then leant in and gently pushing Draco’s chin up, he kissed him softly, tenderly. Draco melted against him, surrendered to the kiss, and removing his hand from Draco’s thigh, Harry placed it on his chest, right above his heart.

“Do you think submitting to me for several days at a time might be something you’d want to do more often in the future?”

There was that coy smile again and Harry’s heart melted and fluttered excitedly at the same time. He wasn’t sure whether Draco was even aware of the kind of smile he used and what effects it had on him but he absolutely adored it when Draco looked at him from under lowered lashes.

He inclined his head and whispered his response.

“Yes, Harry, I think I want that, I think I want it very much.”

Harry wordlessly kissed him again.

“Do you want it for yourself or do you think it’s something that I want?”

“Both?” Draco said, then shook his head. “Scratch that, I know you want it, having control over me gives you a kick, you love it when I surrender, no wait, let me finish. In part, I want it because I know it’ll please you but that’s not all of it. I just like it. I find admitting that scary as hell but Merlin help me, I do, I do like it. Christmas was so hectic, there was so much stress and we only got to play that one time when you took that spatula to my arse and then there was even more stress and I just had enough of it. This getaway has been perfect and at first, I didn’t question your laid back, less dominant approach at all, I even enjoyed it. But then I felt like something was amiss. I needed more and I didn’t really know how to ask you for it so I sassed about it.”

Harry smiled.

He caressed Draco’s cheek softly and kissed him a third time.

“Don’t you ever feel shy about telling me what you need or want, my love. I will never, and I promise you that, laugh at you or shame you for it. That’s not my style, in fact, that sort of stuff is my hard limit, I can’t stand narrow-mindedness and the inability to accept people as they are. You’ll never find me doing any such thing.”

Something endearing, something that resembled adoration, sparkled in Draco’s eyes and he inhaled slowly, then placed his hand on top of Harry’s, pressing it tightly against his heart.

“I think I need this, Harry. I think I need you taking control.”

Closing his eyes, Draco exhaled softly and Harry teased his thumb across his cheek. He was about to kiss him again when Draco parted his lips and spoke. His voice was gentle, quiet, barely audible even.

“Sir. Please.”

Two words were all it took to shatter Harry’s entire world and instead of kissing Draco, he shuffled, pulled Draco against his own body, and wrapped his arms around him, giving him the tightest hug, he’d ever given him.

“I’ll be there for you, every step of the way, my little prince. We’ll take this slow, at your pace, as always. It’ll never be a 24/7 kind of thing, I know that’s not you, I know you couldn’t do it and I don’t want you to push yourself to become someone you’re not. I want you to stay exactly who you are, true to yourself, sassy, bratty, cheeky, potty-mouthed, sly, sharp-tongued and with the sweetest proclivity for kink and submitting to me. I promise you; I’ll never take advantage of your trust in me. Your submission will always be a gift and each time you’ll get on your knees, each time you’ll ask me to take control, I’ll cherish it as though it’s the very first time you do it.”

Draco twisted his head around and slowly opened his eyes. He blinked and thick tears fell over the rim of his watery eyes, silently rolling down his cheeks and leaving a trail of salty wetness behind.

Harry leant down and kissing first Draco’s right eye and then his left, he removed the tears with his lips and tightened his hold on Draco.

“You’re precious, my love. Your submission is precious. Everything about you is precious. I love you so, so, so much, my little prince.”

“I— I— I—”

Draco choked on his words and suddenly the floodgates opened and he sobbed. It wasn’t a heartbreaking sort of sob but one that was full of relief, one that bore witness to the fact that he’d finally allowed himself to admit to something that had clearly been playing on his mind for a while, something he perhaps hadn’t been quite ready to voice but now that Harry had gently coaxed him into it, the comfort of knowing that Harry supported him and that he understood, really understood, had let to this intense emotional outburst.

Harry hugged Draco that little bit tighter, squeezed him that little bit harder, and simply let him cry. He let him sob, let him blubber in his arms and soothed him with tender kisses to his forehead, soft words of reassurance and gentle caresses as his fingers danced over the parts of Draco’s skin, he could comfortably reach without having to loosen his iron grip on Draco until Draco was ready for him to let go.

Several minutes past but it took a quarter of an hour before Draco really began to quieten down and pulling another tissue from the box of tissues, he’d summoned earlier, Harry gently dabbed Draco’s red-rimmed eyes and his wet cheeks, then handed him a fresh tissue to allow him to blow his nose.

“You know, you even look precious when you’re all puffy-eyed and with red rims under your beautiful eyes.”

A faint smile tugged at the corners of Draco’s mouth.

“Charmer,” he mumbled, his voice raspy and low.

Harry chuckled.

“I mean it. You know how I always tell you that submission is power?”

Draco inclined his head.

“This, you crying in my arms, letting me see you upset and allowing me to offer comfort, that is true strength of character. You’re not ashamed of showing me that you’re weak and that sometimes emotions get the better of you and you can’t help yourself but let them out.”

Draco huffed out a breath of air.

“I am though. I am ashamed, mortified even. I think I’m blushing but it doesn’t show because I just sobbed like— like— well, I don’t know like what.”

Harry smiled.

“I’ve seen you blush so many times, I can imagine what it looks like. I’m also very glad that you jumped over your own shadow and admitted to me that you desire submission and that it’s come to mean more to you than just a game.”

“Dominating and taking control has never been a game for you, right?”

Harry nodded.

“It’s not a game for me. It’s a way of life, a conscious choice. It’s part of who I am. I can try to be less dominant; I can try to take less control but I can’t turn the desire off. I need it. It completes me.”

“I think submission is starting to mean the same to me. These last three days helped me to consciously admit it. I’ve been having these thoughts for a few weeks and they kept nagging me but I kept pushing them away, kept telling myself it was nonsense.”

“It’s never nonsense and you should never ignore your heart or your gut when they’re trying to tell you something.”

“You shouldn’t ignore your brain either. Sometimes, it’s the smartest out of the three.”

Harry chuckled.

“Absolutely.”

“I feel relieved but—”

Draco trailed off and unable to conceal a yawn, he brought one hand up to his mouth and covered it.

“I am exhausted,” he admitted sheepishly.

“That doesn’t surprise me. How would you feel about early bedtime?”

Draco crooked an eyebrow at him.

“Are you ordering me to bed, Sir?”

Harry smirked.

“Do you want me to?”

Averting his gaze, Draco focused on the bowl of fresh fruits on the coffee table in front of them and resisted a little when Harry attempt to coax him into looking at him but eventually relented.

“Draco, do you want me to order you to bed?”

Harry asked the question again and Draco pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and chewed on it.

“I’ve no problem doing it, but I won’t as long as I don’t know whether that’s something you want or not.”

Draco remained silent for a few moments and his eyes darted around the room. Eventually, he let out a soft sigh and looked at Harry. He flushed a little.

“Please,” he whispered softly; his plea almost inaudible.

Harry smiled.

“It would be my absolute pleasure to order you to bed, my little prince.”

He murmured the words against Draco’s lips then kissed him softly.

“Right, I want you to go upstairs, splash your face with some cold water, brush your teeth and go to bed. I’ll be up to cuddle with you until you’ve fallen asleep, then I’ll head back downstairs to sort out some correspondence but I promise I’ll be up before midnight and I’ll wrap you in my arms and hold you all night long.”

Draco nodded and slowly moving off the sofa, he was about to stand up when Harry closed a hand around his wrist and pulled him back down again. He kissed him softly, cupped his face and placed a butterfly kiss on the tip of Draco’s nose. It made him giggle and roll his eyes.

“Go. If I come up and you’re not getting for bed you’ll get a bedtime spanking, not a bedtime cuddle.”

Draco pouted.

“What about a bedtime story?” he asked, then smirked.

Harry laughed.

“I’ll tell you one about a fiery fire-spewing green dragon with silver talons and a snarky mouth.”

Draco grinned.

“That sounds utterly delightful.”

Harry rolled his eyes and when Draco moved away, he sat forward and smacked Draco’s naked arse once but firmly.

“Off with you, you cheeky little thing.”

Draco dissolved into laughter but dutifully crossed the room and dashed up the stairs to get ready for bed. Harry leant back against the sofa’s backrest and staring up at one wooden ceiling, he shook his head.

* * *

 


	50. Tension Relief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo!
> 
> This tired and burnt out teacher is officially done.
> 
> Today was my last day for this school year.
> 
> I'm not expected back until the first of September.
> 
> I finally get to relax, spend a load of time with my sweet cat, make final arrangements for my trip back home to Europe over the summer ( _ **K** , I'm coming, whether you're ready or not! (also, this chapter is for you, for so many reasons *devilish grin*)_), sleep a little longer (any cat mum will know that's just wishful thinking, my little monster will still want his food at seven in the morning because that's what he's used to!), and possibly post every day.
> 
> Today was a hectic day, so instead of turning this into a long ramble, I'm just going to stay that I hope you enjoy this chapter and go to bed. I absolutely need sleep, desperately so! I also need chocolate and coffee and hugs but I'll put that on my to-do list for tomorrow.
> 
> Love,  
> Selly x

* * *

“I enjoy being a prosecutor, I really do. The feeling that I am doing something important, something that matters to people and to society means everything to me. My work is not boring or incredibly repetitive. I absolutely do have the people skills to be patient when I’m surrounded by complete buffoons and I am most definitely not about to lose my bloody fucking mind and kill somebody.”

Harry was sure that he wasn’t supposed to find Draco having a grumble about his job amusing and he was also sure that he most definitely wasn’t supposed to laugh about it but he couldn’t help it.

There was just something hilarious about the dark scowl and the way Draco sat on the sofa with his arms crossed over his chest, looking thoroughly irritated and as though he was about to turn into a thunderstorm of epic proportions.

“Give me _one_ good reason as to why I shouldn’t just quit my job and live off my inheritance, Harry. It’s not like I need the money, and I certainly don’t need all the stress. It’s going to drive me over the edge one of these days, Potter. Mark my words, it absolutely will.”

“Eh, because you’re doing something important that matters to people and society?” Harry offered, still bemused.

“Potter, don’t. I’m not above hitting you with a stinging hex, even if you’re entirely innocent in the matter.”

“And I’m not above taking a riding crop to your arse in retaliation, my little prince.”

Harry smiled and slowly getting to his feet, he held Draco’s gaze and relished in the way Draco immediately sat up straighter and just before breaking eye contact, Harry winked.

He moved into the kitchen and rummaging through Draco’s drawer of sweet treats, he located a box of Godiva pralines but carefully kept it out of Draco’s immediate sight. He returned to the living room and moved to stand behind the sofa. A wandless levitation spell ensured that the box floated in the air beside him and casually leaning against the backrest, Harry gently squeezed Draco’s shoulders.

They were stiff with tension and Draco winced when Harry applied a bit of pressure but did not flinch away. Instead, he relaxed into the cushions and tipping his head back, he looked at Harry and mouthed a silent _thank you_.

“Any time, my love.”

Harry kept his voice low, a calming dulcet tone and Draco’s eyelids fluttered in response but didn’t close fully. He leant down, pressed a kiss to Draco’s cheek and slowly increased the pressure, seeking out the tension knots that had Draco wound up tight, determined to help him relax at least a little bit — or a lot but that depended entirely on Draco’s receptiveness over the next few minutes.

“So good, please don’t stop.”

Draco sighed and Harry could feel the stress slowly evaporate.

“Won’t,” he promised.

He gently massaged alongside Draco cervical vertebrae and the base of his skull, then reached for a traditional Belgian milk chocolate truffle, decorated with toffee-coated hazelnut pieces. He offered it to Draco, who parted his lips and accepted the treat, kissing his fingertips as Harry slid the praline into his mouth.

“Hm, fuck, so good.”

Draco moaned the words around the sweet treat presently melting in his mouth, sounding positively obscene. He let his head fall back and stared up at Harry with an expression that bordered on what he looked like when he was seconds away from having an orgasm.

Harry uncomfortably shifted from one foot to the other but firmly ignored the growing predicament in his trousers and continued his massage.

Upon their return from Romania, the Chief Prosecutor for the Wizengamot had handed Draco a mammoth case that had him pulling his hair out in frustration every day for the last three weeks.

Harry couldn’t help but feel sorry for Draco, although beyond bringing Draco lunch, making sure that he got to enjoy coffee and fluids and slept enough, there wasn’t anything else Harry could do to ease the stress Draco was under.

Just before Christmas, a team of his best Aurors had, after months of investigation, finally taken down a scrupulous smuggling ring that had been responsible for bringing illegal and extremely dangerous dark artefacts into Britain.

Harry had been under the impression that the Chief Prosecutor intended to handle the delicate case himself but apparently, he considered Draco more than capable and had publicly named him the prosecutor in charge of the high-profile case. Harry reckoned that it was a bold move and an attempt to make a statement.

The Chief Prosecutor had believed in Draco right from the start and had given him a chance when nobody else had been willing to take him seriously. It was also the kind of case that could make or break one’s career and while Harry was confident that Draco was on top of everything, he worried a lot. When around Draco, he never let anything on but that didn’t mean he could switch his feelings off. For that he cared too much about Draco.

His desire to look after Draco and keep him safe was strong and it despised that there wasn’t more he could do to help. Draco kept reassuring him that he did more than enough and each time he said that, Harry wanted to kiss him senseless and then wrap him into a cocoon of cotton fluff, a feeling he hadn’t shared with Draco and had no intention of sharing with him.

The case was due to go to trial either at the end of the month or the first week of February and Draco was feeling the pressure.

Most days, he was working eighteen hours and he only remembered to eat because Harry made sure to supply him with breakfast, lunch, and dinner — or find a messenger boy to deliver the food in case he was otherwise engaged with his own work.

The fact that they were enjoying a rare evening together was a miracle. It very nearly hadn’t happened at all but earlier today, Harry had, quite resolutely, put his foot down and threatened to drag Draco from his office, kicking and screaming, if he had to.

He’d apparated them straight to Draco’s Notting Hill flat and while he’d busied himself preparing a scrumptious meal for them both, he’d shooed Draco upstairs to have a bath and a power nap. Draco had grumbled about it but it hadn’t taken much more than a stern look from Harry for him to melt and, nod and do as told, something that had made Harry smile all throughout dinner preparations.

Unable to keep still, since the case kept him wound up day and night, Draco had merely taken a quick shower and then returned downstairs.

He’d complained about the preparation for the upcoming trial all through dinner and Harry had let him, sensing that he needed to let off some steam more than he needed to recline in his bathtub or nap in bed.

“You are wonderful, do you know that?”

Harry smiled.

“Hm, yes, you may have mentioned it once or twice.”

“I think, I’m going to have to start reminding you every day.”

“Careful now, it might go to my head.”

“I don’t care, you are marvel— Ow, fuck me, that hurts, yes, _ngh_ , ow, just there.”

Harry pressed a little harder and massaged until the tension knot gave away and the muscle loosened. He reached for another praline and offered it to Draco, who eagerly sucked it into his mouth and then chewed it very slowly, humming as sweet melting chocolate filled his mouth.

Draco adjusted his position a little, giving Harry better access and letting out a low moan, he let his head fall forward. His hands rested on the sofa cushions and as he shifted a little to get more comfortable, he spread his legs a bit further apart.

Despite Draco’s loose trousers, Harry could make out the clear beginnings of an erection and he licked his lips.

Three weeks of continued madness meant that they hadn’t spent much quality time together and they certainly hadn’t had any time to play.

In fact, since coming back from Romania they’d only had sex once. It had been a hurried fuck in the shower one morning before work, and they certainly hadn’t taken the time to tease or draw things out.

They’d both barely latest for ten minutes before hastily finishing their morning routine and heading into work.

While Harry hadn’t chosen to treat Draco to a massage because he had sinister intentions and wanted to have his wicked way with him, he couldn’t deny that Draco budding arousal was turning him on.

The sweet sounds that fell from Draco’s lips and resonated through the room weren’t exactly helping and when Harry offered him a third piece of chocolate and Draco boldly sucked his thumb and index finger into his mouth and looked up at him with dark, smouldering eyes. Harry was, at once, ready to push Draco into a horizontal position and spell those annoying clothes off — Draco looked so much better naked anyway.

_It’s warm enough in here, you don’t need any clothes, my little prince_ , Harry thought.

Draco let his fingers plop from his mouth and licked his lips suggestively.

“Harry,” he whispered. “Want you, _need_ you, please, Sir. Make me yours.”

His low, needy whine set Harry’s skin on fire and with one last squeeze to Draco’s shoulders, he caught the box of chocolate and stepping around the sofa, he put it down on the coffee table and moved to stand between Draco’s spread legs. He looked down at Draco and Draco looked up at him and suddenly they were both incredibly tense for an entirely different reason.

Harry was about to say something but Draco shook his head and the pleading look in his eyes resulted in him swallowing his words.

Draco brought his hands up and hooked them into the waistband of his jeans, then nimbly made short work of the button and zipper before pulling the garment down to his mid-thigh. He then relieved Harry of his underwear and Harry sighed when his hard cock sprung free of its confines.

He watched Draco edge forward on the sofa and although he could have remained seated, he gracefully slid into a kneeling position.

“Please, Sir, may I?” he asked quietly.

Harry swallowed hard and cleared his throat a little. He hadn’t quite expected tonight to end this way but he suddenly wanted it with every inch of his being.

“Put your hands behind your back.”

Draco obeyed without hesitation. He moved his hands between the edge of the sofa and his back and Harry nudged him back a little, making the position just a little uncomfortable.

“Open your mouth.”

Draco followed that instruction too.

He licked his lips, parted them, and looked up at Harry with an expression that drove him wild. He gripped the base of his cock and slowly sliding into Draco’s warm, wet mouth, he let out a low groan of pleasure.

_Too long_ , Harry thought as he let go of his cock. He gently combed his fingers through Draco’s soft, silken hair. It was still a little damp from his earlier shower but felt utterly marvellous to the touch.

“Suck, my little prince. Show me how much you love this.”

Draco reacted instantly.

He pulled back just a little and sucked, gradually varying between increasing and decreasing the amount of suction he used, then began to move his head back and forth, letting Harry effortlessly slide in and out of his mouth.

“Yes, that’s good.”

Harry praised his efforts, though when it came to giving a blowjob, Draco didn’t need to try very hard, he was naturally gifted.

Harry wound his fingers into Draco’s hair. He neither pulled nor applied pressure but he knew that Draco could feel his hands, could tell that all it took for Harry to take control was one harsh tug.

After several days of unrestrained playtime while away on holiday in Romania, it had become that easy to remind Draco who was in charge. A seemingly innocent touch here, a little gesture there, a few words that made no sense to anyone but the two of them.

Draco always relented.

He liked it too much to resist.

He was sassy and at times it took some playful coercion or a firm word here or there but eventually, he surrendered and it was always willing — Harry never forced him beyond the point where Draco felt pressured to let go for his sake rather than his own, it wasn’t his style.

Harry could tell that Draco had missed the thrill of submitting, of relinquishing control and tightening his grip slightly, he gave him yet another command.

“Look at me, my little prince.”

Draco tipped his head back an inch or two and Harry’s cock slipped a little further down his throat.

“Yes, good boy, I want you to keep looking at me, don’t close your eyes.”

Since he had his mouth full and was unable to speak, Draco opened his eyes a little wider and stared right at him, not averting his eyes. His gaze was steady and he was right there, fully aware of what was happening and what Harry had asked of him.

“My sweet little prince, you know how to please me, don’t you?”

Draco attempted to nod his head and made a humming sound that shot straight up Harry’s cock and vibrated through his groin. He let out a low growl, gently tugged on Draco’s hair and caressed his cheek with the back of his fingers.

“I love it when you get on your knees for me, my love, and when you ask for permission, when you’re being a good boy and when you follow the rules. You’re ticking all my boxes today, my sweet little prince.”

Draco hummed again and Harry thrust forward, pushing deeper into his mouth, possessively claiming it, taking ownership of what was his to play with, his to fuck, his to take apart, his to break, and his to put together again and to protect and keep safe.

“Hold still, take it, let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours. Look at me and feel my cock slip in and out of your mouth— Yes, that’s right— Just take it, my sweet little prince. You’re mine, aren’t you? Mine to play with me, mine to fuck, mine to take apart, mine to love.”

Harry positively delighted in Draco’s whiney mewl. It made his cock pulse and throb. He knew he wasn’t going to last long that he didn’t even want to try. They hadn’t played in too long for him to muster up the resolve to show any kind of restraint.

Instead, he thrust harder and fucked Draco’s mouth in earnest; he let Draco feel him, let him know who was in charge, not with words but with his actions — the unrestrained way with which he fucked into Draco’s mouth, the tight grip he had on his hair, the way he kept him on his knees and never broke eye contact.

“I’m going to come down your throat, my love, and you’re going to swallow it all, aren’t you?”

Draco blinked once, it was a silent yes, and Harry smiled at him.

“Watch me come, watch me enjoy your gift to me,” he teased.

It only took another few moments for Harry to feel his orgasm build in the deep inside his groin and once it did, it spread like wildfire, causing his buttocks to clench and his knees to buckle slightly.

He steadied himself on Draco’s shoulder and with one last thrust and a loud guttural groan, he pulled out a little and shot rope after rope of hot come down Draco’s throat. He felt Draco choke a little, then swallow and suckle him dry, greedily lapping up all the good stuff.

Harry slowly pulled out, and letting go of Draco’s hair, he eased his boxers up again and fixed his jeans. He dragged the coffee table a little closer and sitting down on it, he cupped Draco’s flushed cheek and caressed it with his thumb.

“That was perfect, you’re so good at this, my sweet little prince,” he whispered.

Draco let out a low whimper and blinked several times.

“Thank you, Sir,” he said hoarsely and Harry smiled.

“Tell me, my love, are you feeling a little more relaxed yet or would you like to unwind some more?”

“Sir, please, some more, if I may.”

“But, of course. How could I ever deny you anything when you’re being this sweet and polite.”

Draco’s flush deepened and if it wasn’t for Harry’s hand still cupping his cheek, he would have looked away. He blinked and gnawed at his bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth.

Harry clicked his tongue and moved his thumb, gently pressing it against Draco’s bottom lip and freeing the reddened skin.

“Why so shy, my love? It’s only me.”

This time Draco did look away and Harry smirked.

He knew exactly why Draco was acting so coy.

He wanted something but he didn’t want to ask for it.

Slowly rising to his feet, he bent forward, and cupping Draco’s chin, he gripped it firmly, forced him to look at him, then pushed him back, making him arch his back against the edge of the sofa, making his position even more uncomfortable but Draco never complained, never even winced.

What with the restricted space and the fact that Draco still had his hands behind his back, he was seriously struggling to bend to Harry’s will but he did not let that deter him from trying and Harry silently commended him for his bravery, his ability to resist fighting against the burn in his thighs, the pull in his back and the awkward pose, Harry had pushed him into.

“I’m going to go upstairs and get something out of our little play box. When I come back downstairs, I expect you naked and kneeling on the floor with your hands behind your back and your head lowered. Do not look at me when I come back and don’t even think about touching yourself while I’m gone, you won’t like what I’ll do to you if you disobey me tonight, my little prince.”

Harry spoke firmly and with conviction, igniting a flicker of fear in Draco’s eyes. It ghosted over his face, lingered in his eyes and Harry felt him shudder.

“Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” Draco breathed.

“I can’t hear you.”

“Yes, Sir,” Draco spoke a little louder.

Harry nodded.

“That’s my good boy now.”

He let go of Draco and moving towards the staircase that led upstairs and into the bedroom of Draco’s flat, he slowly climbed the stairs. Harry was quite conscious of the fact that they both still had to go to work tomorrow and therefore couldn’t play quite as much as he would have licked but he was sure that he would find something suitable inside their play box to push Draco a little deeper into his submission — tonight that was something Draco wanted and needed and Harry wanted nothing more than to give him exactly that, he wanted to satisfy Draco’s need to submit. It also satisfied his own desire to take charge and be in control.

Since they stayed at Draco’s flat almost as much as they stayed at Grimmauld Place, Harry had asked Draco for a spare drawer and while he did keep some of his clothes in there, he also kept a shrinkable box with a few toys inside. He usually kept the box locked with a non-standard locking charm and always made sure to switch the contents up every so often.

Draco never knew exactly what was inside the box at any given time and he knew better than to try and find out.

There’d been a small hiccup once when he’d tried to find out but Harry had caught him attempting to unlock the box with his wand — he’d been unsuccessful since Harry had linked the unlocking charm to a very specific ancient rune and one didn’t work without the other.

He’d wanted to force Draco over his knee and spank him until his behind was red and raw but conscious of the fact that they didn’t have a contract in place, he’d merely given Draco a stern talking to and told him what would happen if he tried to open the box again, promising Draco that should there be another discretion, he wouldn’t get away with just a warning. He still remembered the look of trepidation on Draco’s face and the way he had swallowed hard, then lowered his head and apologised for being naughty.

Harry made it upstairs in no time and opening his personal drawer, he unlocked the box and glanced inside. He took a moment or two to decide, then chose one toy and a bottle of his favourite sensation-heightening long-lasting lube.

As for the rest, he could always improvise somehow, someway. He locked the box again, nudged the drawer closed with his leg and making his way back downstairs, he found Draco in exactly the position he’d asked him to be in.

Harry allowed himself a moment to admire the beautiful pose, then crossed over into the living room and keeping the toy and the lube out of Draco’s sight, he sat down on the sofa and hid his gifts for Draco behind his back.

“My love.”

He spoke softly, keeping his voice low and calm. Draco lifted his head and looked up at him with a shy smile.

“So sweet. You do know how to drive me absolutely crazy, don’t you?”

Draco blushed and Harry smiled.

“Come here my sweet little prince, bend over my knees, won’t you?”

Harry patted his thighs invitingly. He noted Draco’s hesitation and raised an eyebrow at him.

“What is it, my love?”

“Are you— Sir, are you going to spank me?”

Draco asked the question with a look of mild trepidation.

“I hadn’t planned on it unless you want me to…?”

Draco shook his head.

“Sir, please, no, not tonight.”

Harry leant forward a little and cupping Draco’s cheek, he pulled him into a reassuring kiss, teased his lips with the very tip of his tongue and when Draco parted them, he let his tongue slither inside and playfully wound it around its counterpart, teasing it into action. Draco let out a soft moan and Harry kissed him for a while, then gently withdrew.

“You trust me, don’t you, my little prince?”

Draco nodded.

“Good, then move up on the sofa and lie down across my knees.”

This time, Draco didn’t hesitate. He crawled up onto the sofa and bracing himself on his arms, he slowly draped himself over Harry’s thighs.

Harry slowly let his fingertips trail down Draco’s spine, delighted in the little hiss and wriggle and enjoyed the feeling of Draco’s hard cock pressed up against his leg. He teased Draco for a while, just gently letting his fingers ghost up and down his spine, making him shiver, building the anticipation.

Draco let out a low moan and Harry moved his fingers lower. He let them slide over the crack between Draco’s buttocks but didn’t slip in-between; for now, he just wanted to tease to further build up Draco’s anticipation of what was to come.

Harry traced a set of intricate Shibari knotting patterns over Draco’s firm arse cheeks and let his other hand trail up to Draco’s shoulder, along his collarbone and down his arms, then back up and into his hair. Draco made the most delectable sounds, tiny little moans that turned into needy mewls that turned into whispered pleas of _more, Sir, please_.

“Spread your legs for me, my love,” Harry ordered and Draco complied.

With better access to his hole, Harry cast a wandless warming charm on the bottle of lube, then used a liberal amount to coat his index finger.

“Help me out here, my little prince, use your hands to spread yourself open for me, show me your hole, I want to see that perfect tight ring of muscle, I want to see it twitch and flutter for me.”

Draco let out a desperate moan and did as told. He moved his hands behind his back, spread his buttocks apart and Harry slipped his lubricated finger in-between and sought out Draco’s hole, teasing it gently.

The lube had the desired effect, it intensified the barely-there touch and Draco let out a soft sigh that turned into a long whiny moan the moment Harry began to rub his finger over the sensitive skin surrounding his hole.

“Tell me, my little prince, do you like it when I tease you like that?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Draco’s response was a shaky breath and when Harry gently pressed against the furrowed muscle that was his hole it turned into a low moan.

“I’m going to make you feel so good, my little prince. Are you ready?”

“Yes, Sir, please, please, _please_.”

Draco whined and tried pushing back against his finger, but Harry pulled away, leaving him with just the memory of a teasing touch.

He clicked his tongue.

“I’ve barely started to play with your arse and you’re already so desperate. Do try and behave a little for me or we’ll have to cut this session short.”

Harry’s reprimand was playful and he let it show in his tone. He also resumed rubbing his finger against Draco’s hole, making it flutter and flex beneath his touch as Draco lost himself in the sensations and whimpered softly into the sofa cushion.

Eventually, Harry slowly inserted his finger, pushing it in a tiny bit and then pulling back. He thoroughly enjoyed the tease but it drove Draco wild with need and he started begging for more.

Harry pressed his palm to Draco’s mouth and his pleas turned into a garbled mess of whiny moans.

“Keep the begging for when you really can’t take it anymore, my sweet little prince.”

Draco groaned into the palm of his hand and Harry let it rest there while he continued to finger-fuck him. He kept the pace deliberately slow and initially refrained from stimulating Draco’s prostate, but then he rubbed against it, taking his time to warm it up and thoroughly tease it.

It resulted in Draco wriggling against his thighs, trying to rub his cock against it for friction. Harry gently slapped Draco’s arse and his hands slipped but he hastily replaced them and tried his best to remain perfectly still.

Harry teased him for a while longer, then abruptly withdrew his finger and reaching behind him, he grabbed the toy and the lube. He squeezed a large amount onto Draco’s loosened hole, then coated the black ribbed silicone anal beads with as much lube as he possibly could, creating a divine slippery mess.

He pressed the first bead against Draco’s hole, let him adjust to the slight pressure and telling him to relax he slowly eased the bead inside.

Draco let out a beautiful long moan and Harry gently tugged on the bead but didn’t pull it out again. Instead, he pushed it deeper and inserted a second bead shortly after.

“Sir, what—” Draco wanted to know but Harry shushed him.

“Just enjoy, I’ll explain later,” he said.

He tugged on the second bead, causing it to rub against the inside of Draco’s hole, stimulating the sensitive muscle. He then pushed it deeper and added a third bead. They were slowly getting larger in size but not overly so and judging by the delightful sounds, Draco made, he was thoroughly enjoying himself and the sensations of the ribbed silicone beads as they slowly slid deeper and deeper into him. The lube made everything so slippery and heightened the sensations and Harry was thrilled with Draco’s reaction to the toy — anal beads really weren’t the same as an ordinary butt plug.

This time, Harry did not reprimand Draco for being vocal.

Instead, he let each moan, each whine, and each mewl wash over him as he continued to push bead after bead into Draco’s tight hole until all eight beads were firmly inside Draco and only a silicone ring remained.

“How does that feel my sweet little prince?”

“I— I don’t know, Sir. So good, but— _ngh_ , I can’t describe it.”

“If it’s good, then that’s all that matters,” Harry said with a broad smile.

He hooked his finger into the ring and gently tugged on the beads, pulling the biggest one out, then pushing it right back inside. Draco positively keened in delight and Harry twisted the beads inside his hole, causing them to move and shift. The two largest ones rubbed against Draco’s prostate and casting a very mild warming charm directly on the toy, Harry raised the temperature of the beads.

Draco moaned loudly and without any restraint and feeling bold, Harry added mild vibrations. This resulted in Draco bucking his hips and letting out a guttural groan.

“Sir, _ngh_ , oh—”

He started to say something but Harry increased the vibrations and whatever Draco had been about to say turned into a wanton moan and a desperate plea for _more, more, more_.

Harry twisted the beads around, pulled and pushed and played with the temperature and the vibrations until Draco was incessantly begging him to let him come. He denied him the pleasure, of course, then stopped all sensations and nudged Draco off his legs and back into a kneeling position on the floor.

“Be a good boy and go get me a glass of cool water from the kitchen, and don’t spill anything, that would be most unfortunate. For you, not for the water, mind you, since I assume you do want to come at some point tonight.”

Draco’s jaw dropped and he looked positively unhappy about having to go and get Harry some water.

Still, he knew better than to object and slowly getting to his feet, he let out a groan when the beads moved inside of him, making it difficult to move into a standing position.

“Harry— Sir— I can’t.”

Harry smiled devilishly.

“Sure, you can. Now go.”

Draco glared but his expression softened immediately when Harry clicked his tongue, crossed his arms over his chest and threatened with the immediate removal of the beads and a spanking.

It was enough to convince Draco to walk into the kitchen but he moved slowly and gingerly. The beads moved inside of him with every little step that he took and Harry knew that they were rubbing against his prostate and pushing against the sensitive skin around his hole — exactly as they were meant to.

When Draco had reached for a glass and had finished pouring some cool, filtered water into it, Harry mumbled the spell that activated the vibrations but kept them on the lowest level.

Still, they were obvious enough to make Draco groan and grip the kitchen counter firmly as he bent forward and pushed his arse out, wriggling it to somehow make the vibrations more bearable. He grumbled and moaned and cursed under his breath and finally complained that he couldn’t carry the full glass back without spilling the water.

Harry merely laughed.

“My sweet little prince, if you want to come, you’ll bring me that water without spilling it.”

That idle thread seemed to encourage Draco, who slowly moved and carried the glass into the living room with the utmost care. He managed to hand it to Harry without spilling a single drop and taking it, Harry took a few small sips, snapped his fingers and the beads vibrated stronger.

Draco twisted and turned and eventually dropped to his knees and fell forward onto his hands.

“Sir, _please_ —”

“Please what?” Harry asked completely nonchalant. “Don’t tell me you want me to make it stop?”

“ _Ngh_ , it’s— it’s— it’s too much.”

Draco groaned and rocked and jerked his hips, desperately trying to move with the sensations the beads caused inside of him.

“C’mere, sweet boy,” Harry said and even though he hadn’t asked for him to do it, Draco crawled the short distance over to him and knelt at his feet but didn’t manage to remain completely still.

Harry took one more sip of water, then leant forward to set the glass down on the coffee table. He paused the vibrations and Draco sighed with relief.

“Straddle my left leg,” he ordered.

Draco carefully moved into position and tried sitting back on his haunches but Harry smacked his arse and clicked his tongue.

“None of that now, kneel properly unless you’re told otherwise.”

Harry reached around Draco and hooking a finger into the ring at the end of the anal beads, he began twisting them around, pulling one out, then another before shoving them both back inside and twisting them some more.

Draco groaned and swaying precariously, he tried to steady himself by moving his hands to rest them on Harry’s shoulders.

“No, hands behind your back, where they belong.”

“Sir—”

Draco let out a soft sigh but obeyed and lowered his head. Harry followed his gaze and smirking, he wrapped his free hand around Draco’s cock and stroked it, gently, lightly, teasingly.

It wasn’t a satisfying touch, it was pure torment and what with keeping the beads inside of Draco moving, he had him begging for his release in no time.

“Please, Sir, please, please let me come.”

Harry removed his hand from Draco’s swollen cock. It was heavy and hot and leaking precome and his balls were tight and drawn up. He was so close; it wouldn’t take much to push him over the edge, yet Harry remained resolute.

“No.”

Draco let out a frustrated groan but Harry distracted him with another few strokes, then pulled away before Draco could start thrusting into his hand.

“Please, Sir, please, please, please—”

Draco begged and pleaded.

He was perspiring heavily and shaking all over. His stomach muscles flexed with every denied orgasm and he jerked his hips, clearly unable to take much more of the torment.

“Tell me, my little prince, do you need to come?”

“Yes, Sir, yes, yes, yes, please, please, please.”

“Needy, desperate little thing. Make it happen then, rut against my leg. My jeans should give you just the right amount of friction to send you over the edge.”

Draco’s eyes widened at the command and he stared, gnawing at his bottom lip, and shaking like a leaf. Not because he was cold or because he was frightened but because of his arousal. He was hanging on the very edge just an inch away from falling, and Harry’s bold request had clearly surprised him just a little.

“Go on, let me watch. Let me watch how you make yourself come for me.”

“Sir—”

Draco whispered the word and Harry teasingly ran a single finger along the underside of his cock and over his balls, then back up, and around the head.

“Yes, my love. I’m waiting. You can do this. It’ll be such a pretty sight and it would please me ever so much, but remember if you absolutely don’t want to, you just have to say the word, you know I’ll never force you.”

“I— I want to. I’m just— I—”

Draco flushed bright red and averted his eyes.

“Embarrassed?” Harry asked, finishing the sentence for him.

He cupped Draco’s cheek and pulled him into a kiss. That always seemed to distract Draco whenever Harry spontaneously suggested something new. He twisted the beads gently, added a little of heat and Draco moaned into the kiss.

Harry pulled away but instead of breaking contact completely, he pressed his cheek against Draco’s. It put him into the perfect position to whisper right in Draco’s ear.

“Be a good boy now, sit back on your haunches for me,” he instructed softly and Draco did. It was easier this way.

“Good, you’re doing well, I’m pleased. Now roll your hips, rub your cock against my leg.”

Draco followed the instruction but what with having to keep his hands behind his back, he quickly lost his balance and fell forward. Harry caught him and held him close, leaning back to give Draco more space to move. He twisted the beads again, pulled the biggest one out, then pulled two more out, then slowly pushed them all back inside.

In response, Draco groaned and rolled his hips again, more insistent this time.

“My sweet little prince, keep going, move a little faster. You’re doing so well.”

Draco did move faster and moaned into Harry’s shoulder. He trembled and rolled his hips again.

“Yes, that’s it, my love, make yourself come for me, you’re being so good for me right now and you like that, don’t you? You like being good for me, don’t you?”

Yes, _ngh_ , yes, Sir—”

Draco groaned and thrust harder, rolling his hips faster still. He ground against Harry’s clothed leg as though his life depended on it.

Harry twisted the anal beads and pushed them against Draco’s prostate.

“Sir, so— so— close—”

Draco panted and moaned and whimpered.

“Yes, come for me, my little prince, come for me, let me hear you explode, let me hear how good it feels for you when you’re allowed to come, when you come for me, when you obey me so well.”

Harry’s words, along with another twist of the beads, were enough to send Draco over the edge and as he arched his back and twisted his body and groaned and moaned, Harry slowly let one bead after the other pop from his tight hole, prolonging Draco’s orgasm and intensifying the sensations.

Draco came hard, jerking helplessly in Harry’s arms and shooting several ropes of come between them, thoroughly soiling those jeans. His come soaked through the thick fabric and Harry shuddered a little at the sticky mess but said nothing — after all, he’d ordered Draco to come all over his leg, he was hardly going to complain about it.

Instead, he dropped the beads to the floor, silently vowing to clean up later, and wrapping both arms around Draco, he held him tight as he softly sobbed in his arms.

He could tell that Draco wasn’t crying; all the teasing and the intensity of his orgasm had most definitely completely overwhelmed him.

Harry gave him a full fifteen minutes to recover a little before he suggested a shower.

Draco agreed meekly but made no effort to remove himself from Harry’s lap.

After a little bit of fruitless coaxing, Harry simply carried him up the stairs and gently sat him down inside the bathtub. He used a sponge and warm water to clean Draco up, pampered him with plenty of kisses and towelled him dry, then led him to the bed and carefully tugged him in.

When he attempted to return to the bathroom, Draco’s hand shot out and he grabbed his wrist and squeezed tight.

“ _No_ , don’t go, need you,” he said.

“I’m not going anywhere, Draco, I’m just going to clean myself up a bit.”

“No, please,” Draco begged.

"Alright, I'll stay. I won't go anywhere, I'll stay right here with you and you'll be safe in my arms."

"Thank you, Sir."

Smiling at Draco’s post-orgasmic clinginess, Harry shook his head, ignored the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach that reminded him of all the playtime mess downstairs and in the bathroom, and divested himself of his own clothing instead. He cast a strong cleaning charm over himself and crawling into bed with Draco, he wrapped him into his arms, holding him tightly and just like he'd promised. Harry kissed Draco tenderly, ran his fingers through his hair and whispered sweet nothings until he was sure that Draco had fallen asleep.

Only then did he slip back out of bed and returned downstairs to clean up the mess they’d made. He also fixed up the bathroom, then stretched his tired limbs and returning to bed, he curled himself around Draco, wrapping his arms around him and holding him tight.

He was fast asleep less than ten seconds later.

* * *

 


	51. Celebrate The Good Times

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After spending the entire morning running errands and the afternoon writing, I skipped posting yesterday but I'm here today.
> 
> Do enjoy.
> 
> Love,  
> Selly x

* * *

Try as he might, Draco couldn’t tear his eyes off the explosion of colours that presently decorated his living room coffee table — although if he was honest, he didn’t want to and there was absolutely nothing and nobody that could make him. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. There was one person who had the ability to capture his attention like nobody else could and that special someone was Harry Potter. Draco suppressed his desire to let out a small sigh to bemoan the fact that Harry was not in the room with him to celebrate his victory.

Still, and despite Harry’s absence, Draco was unable to wipe the smug grin off his face — he was even less inclined to even try to successfully rein that one in — and moving closer to the massive bouquet of Peruvian lilies, he allowed his fingers to flitter over the tender blossoms and giggled softly to himself as they tickled his skin. A mild shudder of excitement surged through him.

After an utterly arduous three-day trial the Wizengamot Judges had finally read out the verdict: _Life in Azkaban, no parole_.

Upon hearing the ruling, which had been everything Draco had hoped to achieve, he had very nearly forgotten his manners and almost jumped off the prosecutor’s bench in delight. It had taken him every ounce of self-control as well as shoving his hands underneath his thighs and sitting on them, to stop himself from punching the air and making a complete mockery out of himself while the trial was still in progress.

However, after investing some six-hundred hours into preparing for the case, and planning for absolutely every eventuality, he simply didn’t have the energy for any sort of frivolity. He’d, therefore, limited himself to doing a mental victory dance.

Even though the trial hadn’t been his first high-profile case, he couldn’t quite get over the fact that he’d done it; that he’d really gone and done it. He’d presented an iron-clad case, picked apart every single lie the accused had tried to tell and had meticulously presented every tiny piece of evidence the Aurors and his team of independent investigators had gathered.

It had been child’s play, or so he’d repeatedly told himself during the three days of trial in a desperate attempt to stop his mind from going into overdrive and creating an endless list of reasons as to why he was a failure and would lose the trial. He had not. He’d done everything right; the defence hadn’t stood a chance at getting anyone to believe that the accused was ‘ _not guilty_ ’ as they’d kept insisting.

Last night, sensing that things were about to go arse up, they’d come asking for a plea bargain. Draco had, in a fit of nervous rage, which he had mostly controlled well, shown them the door, and told them that unless they were willing to accept a life sentence with no hope of parole, they could go fuck themselves.

Ever since eleven-thirty this morning Draco was, without the shadow of a doubt, Wizarding Britain’s most famous prosecutor. Well, at least according to the papers, who’d bestowed that title upon him. They all heralded him as the next, and possibly youngest, Chief Prosecutor for the Wizengamot.

The Prophet had, of course, run a special edition with a large photo of him _triumphantly_ – the court reporter’s words – leaving the courtroom, splashed across their front page. A slightly smaller photograph showed the Court Aurors leading the head of the international smuggling ring down to the holding cells where he would spend the night. In the morning, the Court Aurors would take him to his new home, a cold stony cell on an isolated island in the middle of the North Sea. Draco had promised him the worst cell without windows and politely wished him a pleasant stay.

Upon finally exiting the courtroom, he’d half expected to find Harry waiting for him outside in the corridor. He’d noticed him sitting in the back of the room just before the judges had read out the verdict and elated and relieved, he’d been dying to celebrate with Harry.

Strangely enough, he hadn’t been able to spot Harry anywhere but with everyone wanting a few moments of his time, he didn’t have the chance to properly contemplate Harry’s unexplained absence for more than a second.

The Chief Prosecutor had insisted on taking him out for a celebratory lunch and knowing that trying to wriggle his way out of the invitation would be fruitless, Draco hadn’t even tried, and politely allowed his superior to wine and dine him.

Naturally, he would have preferred to lunch with Harry, perhaps followed by a more intimate celebration of his success, but Bailey Watson had always been good to him and the man deserved respect.

Back when nobody cared enough to give him a second chance Chief Prosecutor Watson had looked past his family’s history and given him the opportunity to prove his talent.

And Draco had not disappointed — Watson still enjoyed to occasionally point that out. Why Draco didn’t know but each time his boss did so, he smiled politely and thanked him again for his trust and the opportunity to make a name for himself in a world where many still believed he was no better than his father.

At this stage, he had proven himself so many times that Watson hardly ever supervised his cases but allowed him a great deal of freedom — much more freedom than some of the other prosecutors, something Draco was especially grateful for. It was a privilege; Draco knew that much, and one he wasn’t willing to ever take for granted.

After lunch, which had been quite enjoyable, he’d stopped by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to check on Harry but had found his office empty.

Harry’s secretary had informed him that he was out in the field for the remainder of the day and that she didn’t know when and if he would return to the office later this afternoon.

Not being able to celebrate with Harry had dampened Draco’s spirits a little but his mood had improved considerably when he’d returned to his office to find a note from Harry.  
  

> _If I were you, I’d take the rest of the afternoon off and go home… H x_

  
He’d, of course, taken Harry up on his suggestion and thus far, Draco had no regrets about his decision to ignore the mountain of paperwork on his desk.

Upon his return home, he’d immediately discovered the magnificently full vase arrangement of salmon, cerise, flame, lilac, red, gold, and bronze Peruvian lilies, and a second note from Harry.  
  

> _Don’t bother counting, it’s an even 200._  
>  _And yes, I know it’s a lot but they are for you. From me._  
>  _You’re worth every single blossom and then some._  
>  _Love you, H x_

  
Draco glanced that the two notes in his hand, inhaled deeply and closing his eyes, he held his breath for a moment, then exhaled slowly.

The fragrance of the Peruvian lilies lingered in the room and his nostrils. It was intense and feeling a little dizzy, he retreated into the kitchen where he promptly did a double take.

There, on the counter, protected by a long-lasting Stasis Charm, sat a cup of espresso, still steaming and idly waiting for him.

Underneath its saucer was another note. Draco drew his wand, ended the spell and picking the cup up, he brought it to his lips, inhaled, then drank and let out a small, satisfied hum.

He glanced at the note and smirked. He had no idea what Harry was playing at but whatever it was, Draco liked it a lot. It was like playing a small-scale scavenger hunt in his own flat and his chest filled with excitement and anticipation.  
 

> _A little burst of energy, you’re welcome. I hope you’re feeling better._ 😊 _  
> Also, you might want to peek into your bathroom. H x_

  
Draco shook his head and holding on to all three notes, he made his way up the stairs and headed straight for his bathroom.

He opened the door to find the lights dimmed down low. A full bathtub was waiting for him and soft calming music played in the background. Deep-red rose petals floated on the water’s surface and a series of candles, protected with charms fire-protection charms, lined the inner edge of the bathtub.

Propped up against one of the candles was note number four.

Draco curiously reached for it and unfolded the thick, cream parchment.  
  

> _You deserve it._  
>  _Don’t stay too long, though._  
>  _Or do if you want._  
>  _Hm, how I wish I could watch you lie back in the warm water…oh well, another time perhaps. H x_

  
Draco’s heart skipped several beats, then started to beat faster and harder. A swarm of butterflies repeatedly doing summersaults wreaked havoc in the pit of his stomach.

He placed Harry’s teasing little notes down on the counter beside the sink, stripped naked, and tossed all his clothes into the wash basket, vowing to separate them some other time. He climbed into the bathtub, sat down and slowly stretched his limbs. The water was hot and soothing and leaning back, Draco closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift a little as he felt the tension slowly seep from his body. His sore muscles relaxed and loosened and Draco smiled to himself.

Harry truly was something else. He was all kinds of perfect and it was when he did things like this, little gestures to show him how much he cared and how much he loved Draco, that he couldn’t help but wonder if their relationship was real or if it was all just a gigantic dream he couldn’t bring himself to wake up from.

Harry was special; he was one of a kind. He cared so much that each time Harry showed him just how much Draco’s heart swelled and he didn’t know what to do with all the emotions he felt. Harry had introduced him to a kind of relationship, Draco had never thought he wanted but now knew he needed. Harry did and said things that made Draco feel like Harry had properly ruined in a way that Draco knew, he simply knew, that no other man would ever be able to make him feel the way he did when he was with Harry.

It wasn’t just the sex, though that was out of this world, it was the way Harry respected him and loved him. He cared about boundaries, open and honest communication was important to him, and he never expected for Draco to forget about the few friends and family he still had left — in fact, Harry wanted him to cherish those relationships, wanted to make sure Draco’s network of supportive friends thrived and grew. Even though they frequently spend a lot of time together, Harry never demanded that Draco put him first — he reserved those requests for the times they played and only those times. His possessiveness was healthy and stimulating and Draco felt like he was addicted to it.

After the stress of the last month, Harry’s little treats and this bath were the perfect way to unwind and it was all he wanted. Well, it would be even more enjoyable if Harry was here with him, soaking in the warm water but right now that wasn’t possible.

Draco wrapped his arms around himself and imaged it was Harry hugging him from behind. He fantasised about Harry wrapping his strong legs low around his waist and about tilting his head back and exposing his neck to Harry, giving him access to kiss and nibble on every inch of it, allowing him to bite and bruise and mark. A small moan escaped past Draco’s slightly parted lips and he ran his hands over his chest, brushing his sensitive nipples as he did.

He could feel his cock twitch with interested and opening his eyes a tiny bit, he stared down at his parted legs and contemplated a quick handjob but couldn’t bring himself to wrap his fingers around his own cock and stroke himself. He wanted Harry’s hand, wanted it to be Harry who touched him so intimately and controlled his pleasure. He wanted Harry to whisper dirty words into his ear, while he nibbled and bit his earlobe and drove him wanton by not giving him the one thing he desired the most.

Draco resolutely opened his eyes again, inhaled deeply and refocused, pushing any and all salacious thoughts about getting naughty in the bath out of his mind.

He’d never had much of a thing for flowers but with Harry things were different. Draco rather loved his romantic side, loved it as much as he loved his dominant side — and if he was perfectly honest, which came easy these days, he craved each one of Harry’s sides. Put together they created the man he’d fallen in love with, the one person who could twist and turn his mind until he didn’t know the difference between up and down and left and right.

 _The perfect gentleman_ , Draco mused and promptly started chuckling to himself.

A year ago, if someone had told him that he’d end up falling in love with Harry Potter he would have asked them to see a mind healer.

A year ago, if someone had told him that he’d discover a side of him he could still barely comprehend, yet one that gave him so much joy, the freedom to let go, and the feeling of complete safety, he would have hexed that someone.

Here he was, hopelessly in love with a man who knew exactly how to bring him to his knees in many ways; a man who cherished him and respected him and honoured him. While Harry did occasionally laugh at him, it was never meant to harm and Draco could sense that in his demeanour. He also saw it in Harry’s eyes.

He’d fallen hard and deep and there was nothing he could or wanted to do about it — he just hoped the feeling would last forever and remain mutual.

He hadn’t only become addicted to the rush of submitting to Harry, of allowing him to dominate him but he was also more than enthusiastic about building a future with Harry. What they had, and Draco had no doubt about that, was special, truly special.

At only twenty-seven, the idea that he’d found true love, that he’d found the one, scared him but Draco simply didn’t want to give up on the exhilarating happiness he felt every time they were together. He was quite certain that some of that was because he and Harry were still very much in the honeymoon phase of their relationship but Draco didn’t often care about those aspects — there was no need.

Their relationship was healthy, there was no denying that. Despite less than perfect upbringing and lasting scars from a war neither one of them had wanted anything to do with, they’d managed to grow into two healthy young men, who had, miraculously found each other and where so perfectly compatible that Draco’s heart fluttered excitedly at the mere idea of spending a few minutes in Harry’s company.

Then again, he’d always been partial to Harry, hadn’t he? Ever since their very first meeting in Madame Malkin’s while getting their Hogwarts robes fitted and later the train to Hogwarts and in every class, they’d ever shared. Riling Harry up had always been his favourite pastime and Draco smiled fondly at the memory. He’d spent an extraordinary amount of time thinking up reasons and ways to get Harry’s attention, though back then he’d been bratty and too foolish to really understand that all he’d ever wanted was to be Harry’s friend.

Now, they were so much more. They weren’t just lovers, they were partners. Despite his desire to control and dominate, Harry treated him as his equal. He never looked down on him, mistreated him or called him names. He was playful, firm, always respectful, kind, and above all loving.

Draco shook his head at his own mawkish thoughts but he felt rather disinclined to do anything about being less maudlin about his feelings for Harry.

He regretted how much time he’d wasted holding a grudge and how stupid his beliefs had been before the war and he sometimes, he still couldn’t believe the special bond they shared and how much he trusted Harry when he bared his soul for him. There wasn’t much he could do about his regrets but there was a whole lot he could do about not screwing up when he and Harry had built over the last few months and he was adamant that he wasn’t going to do anything to jeopardise his their relationship — for that he cared too much, was in too deep.

Draco suddenly remembered their chance meeting at his — now it was their — favourite coffee shop, not far from his flat.

Back then, the almost instant easy banter between them had thoroughly thrown him and it really hadn’t taken long before Harry had charmed him with his dorky humour, his playful notes, and his ability to engage in a meaningful discussion about something they were both passionate about.

He hadn’t allowed himself to hope that they’d ever be more than friends but the universe was clearly rooting for them. That or someone had decided that Draco deserved all the luck in the world.

He snapped out of his daydream, not because he wanted to but because he could feel the water getting cooler and it wouldn’t be long before it would be uncomfortably cold. He slid a little lower and closing his eyes, he submerged himself fully in the water, held his breath for several seconds, then sat up and washed his hair and the rest of his body before resolutely climbing out of the tub.

Towelling himself dry, Draco fixed his hair and grabbing his wand and Harry’s notes, he extinguished the candles and emptied the bathtub, then cast several simple household charms around the room to restore order. He headed into his bedroom and promptly stopped, stared, and frowned.

There were three rectangular boxes were sitting on top of his bed.

The bottom one was the largest and the top one was quite obviously a shoebox.

Draco shook his head and wondered whether the boxes had been there when he’d first entered the bedroom but no matter how much he racked his brains, he couldn’t remember.

He’d been so focused on the bathroom that he’d paid no heed to anything else.

Crossing the room, Draco reached for the note on top of the shoebox, unfolded it and smiled.  
  

> _Little Prince—_  
>  _Wear me, you know you want to._  
>  _When you’re dressed to the nines, come meet me at Grimmauld Place.  
>  _ _I’ll be waiting.  
>  _ _Love, H x_
> 
> _P.S. If you like the special gift I got you, there’s a whole set of them waiting for you…and if you don’t, forget I ever said anything. You know our golden rule – if you don’t want it, I don’t want it._

  
For a second or two, Draco forgot how to breathe.

He had absolutely no idea what Harry was expecting him to wear but he desperately hoped that it wasn’t anything embarrassing. He didn’t mind a butt plug or a cock ring and he didn’t think that Harry expected him to wear leather and lace or at least he fervently hoped that Harry didn’t want him to wear that.

Too curious to resist the temptation, he reached for the shoebox and opened it.

Inside, he found a brand-new pair of elegant, fur-lined black Oxfords and matching black socks. He admired the shoes for several moments, marvelled at the softness of the fur and only put them down when he couldn’t quite counter the allurement of the second box.

He picked it up and opened it and his discovery made him feel rather giddy.

Inside the box, he found a carefully-folded new crisp-white button-up shirt, an impossibly-soft grey cashmere jumper, and a midnight blue tie.

Since he was reasonably dry, Draco removed the towel from around his hips and tossed it onto the bed. He slipped into his new shirt, slowly buttoned it up, expertly fastened the tie around his neck and pulled the jumper on. He didn’t want to know how many galleons Harry had spent on the outfit but judging by the feel of the clothes and the quality of the fabric, he reckoned they were custom-made.

Reaching for the last box, Draco removed the lid and found a pair of trousers. They matched the colour of his new tie and the fabric looked and felt exquisite.

Draco shivered slightly, the anticipation of slowly sliding his legs into each trouser leg almost too much to take.

He was about to head to his wardrobe to find a pair of boxer briefs when he spotted one idly lying inside the box, innocently waiting for him. He reached for it and the moment his hands connected with the soft silky fabric an inscription appeared along the waistband and his mouth dropped open. He stared, disbelievingly, not quite able to comprehend that Harry had done _that,_ given him such a perfect gift.  
 

> **_I belong to Harry James Potter._ **

  
Draco felt his hands tremble slightly and a shudder surged through him and sapped down his spine, ending somewhere low in his groin, where it spread and filled him with warmth. His cock gave an interested twitch and swelled a little and his mouth suddenly felt dry.

He had absolutely no idea what Harry had planned for tonight but the mere idea of wearing something that said he belonged to Harry thoroughly turned him on.

It made his head spin and feeling just a little dizzy, he took a moment to sit down on the edge of his bed. He let his fingers trail over the words and shuddered. The words repeated themselves in his head, almost like a mantra, and he swallowed hard.

 _Fuck_ , he wanted this.

Badly.

He wanted to belong to Harry so much and he wanted to wear something that reminded him of how much he enjoyed their power play and the thrill he felt whenever they engaged in it.

There was no way that he could wear a collar to work, but this, well it was perfect.

A pair of boxer briefs with a little inscription, a little something only he and Harry knew about. A constant reminder of how much of a kick he got out of surrendering to Harry’s wild side.

Draco shuddered again and suddenly unable to wait, he got back to his feet and stepped into his new underwear. He pulled the briefs up slowly and wasn’t at all surprised to find that they fit like a glove, moulding perfectly around his buttocks, and encasing his half-hard cock gently. Glancing into the mirror, Draco admired his underwear and let his fingers glide over the inscription. The tips of his fingers tingled and a small electric shook surged up his arms. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest and his cock twitched and grew a little harder.

“Yours.”

It was barely a whisper but the word slipped past his lips before Draco had the conscious thought to control himself, not that he particularly wanted to control himself.

That was Harry’s job and boy did he want that to be Harry’s job. He absolutely needed Harry to be in control. The rush of it, the intense emotions, Draco never wanted to give up on that again. It had become something he desired, something that completed him.

He closed his eyes and allowed himself to feel the rush of excitement that managed to nearly sweep him off his feet, then bit down on his bottom lip and not wanting to wait any longer to see Harry, he grabbed his new trousers, pulled them on, tugged his shirt in, and fixed his jumper. He put his socks on, slipped into his shoes and grabbing his wand, he left his bedroom and made his way downstairs where he put his coat and scarf on.

He left his flat, headed down the street and ducking into an empty alley, he apparated straight into a dark corner near Grimmauld Place. He had to walk for a few minutes but eventually, he stood in front of Harry’s house and slowly watched it appear out of nowhere.

He took a deep breath of cold, wintry air, walked up to the front door, knocked, and waited, impatiently stepping from one foot onto the other. He wanted to see Harry, desperately so, and when the door finally opened, he promptly forgot how to breathe and simply stared at Harry for several long moments.

“Well, hello there, _sexy_.”


	52. A Rather Dirty (And Somewhat Unexpected) Proposition (And Then Some)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm ever so pleased to know that you all enjoyed the end of Chapter 51, I got some very nice comments about it. *chuckles* You're welcome! And no, I'm not sorry. I'll do it again in a heartbeat. Just a little over 50 chapters in you should really know what I'm capable of.
> 
> You're welcome for the cliff hanger, however I'll endeavour to make it up to you with this chapter.
> 
> More chapter specific notes at the end to avoid spoiling the chapter for you.
> 
> Love,  
> Selly x

* * *

Draco’s laughter, loud and unrestrained, reverberated around the room and Harry smiled or grinned from ear to ear more likely. He felt the unadulterated happiness of Draco’s excitement surge through him and pulling Draco close, he kissed his lips, then, and before Draco could properly respond to the kiss, pushed him away again and spun him around the room, going faster and faster.

Draco yelped, laughed even harder and when Harry himself felt too dizzy to continue, he stopped and Draco fell right into his arms, stumbling somewhat as his feet refused to properly obey him.

“I love you, Harry, I love you!”

Draco proclaimed his love loudly and unabashedly. He was breathless and continued to grin stupidly, happily, and completely carefree.

“I love you too.”

Harry whispered his response, let his fingers slide through Draco’s hair, now wild and messy, much like his own, and then glide down his back to his hips. He squeezed, pulled Draco flush against his own body, and felt his breath hitch, felt him bury his face in the crook of his neck, felt him let out a low, audible breath that was warm and soft and all kinds of right.

“I belong to you.”

Four words, spoken barely louder than a huff of air, vibrated against his bare skin and Harry relished in the tremor it sent right through him.

Sweet words of surrender, of complete and absolute submission, voluntarily given, unasked for, unexpected.

Excitement filled him, overwhelmed him, and he tightened his hold on Draco, unwilling to let go of the very person who had turned his life upside down and continued to do so every time they spent more than five minutes together.

Dinner, a celebration to honour Draco’s recent success in the courtroom, had been a lazy affair.

Harry had cooked, they’d talked about the case, the verdict and how utterly delighted Draco was that the whole thing was finally over and that all that he had left to do was to write up a few reports.

He shyly, and with an adorable flush to his cheeks, confessed to feeling uneasy about being in the limelight and being the centre of attention, repeatedly saying that he’d only done his job and nothing else.

 _Oh, but you did it beautifully_ , Harry had reassured him several times over and pulled him into a searing kiss that had left them both breathless and Draco flushed and giddy with a boyish kind of feverishness, Harry didn’t see very often or at all.

It had taken them forever to finish the meal. They’d enjoyed the easy banter, a copious amount of laughter and several glasses of exquisite red wine, Harry had opened for them to enjoy along with dinner.

Draco had complimented him for his excellent choice and Harry had tried his best to keep a straight face as he’d accepted the praise, only for Draco to boldly ask him whether he’d had help. That had been the exact moment, Harry had crumbled and his poker face had fallen apart at the seams.

He had tried denying it but apparently, a barely obvious twitch around his right eye had given him away, or so Draco had said as he’d mocked him for his inability to discern a fine wine from a cheap one without the help of a shop assistant, who apparently was a better wine connoisseur than Harry would ever be  — Draco’s words.

Harry had tried to reason that he understood whiskey and expensive champagne but Draco hadn’t relented and teased him mercilessly instead and Harry had relished in every single moment of it. It hadn’t even occurred to him to playfully threaten Draco with a spanking or another form of discipline — he’d been too distracted by Draco’s good looks, his warm laughter, and the way the conversation flowed between them. It had almost felt like they were on a first date, only with the added benefit of having been in a relationship for several months already.

Dessert had very nearly ended with raucous sex on the kitchen table but somehow, after too many snogs with too much tongue and too much inappropriate groping, Harry had found it in him to exercise some level of self-control — though it hadn’t been much — and he’d resolutely restrained himself and refrained from tearing the clothes off Draco’s back and fucking him while he had him bent over and pressed tightly against the table with no room to squirm or move.

He’d even managed to resist when Draco had outright, and rather sassily, questioned his lack of interest in seeing the boxer briefs, he’d gifted him along with tonight’s outfit.

Draco’s pout and the way he’d fluttered his eyelashes, right along with that irresistible teasing look in his eyes, had nearly resulted in Harry coming undone but somehow, he’d found half an ounce of willpower to cool his desires, leaving them to smoulder on the hearth in the centre of his chest and down low in his groin for later use.

Now, here they were, sated and most definitely no longer sober yet not fully inebriated, just floating somewhere close to tipsy _—_ dancing around the living room or spinning more likely.

It had been a dance at some point but for the past ten minutes or so it had been just unconstrained silly fun _—_ and laughing, lots of laughing, hugging, kissing. It was perfect, wonderful, and something Harry did not want to give up for the world.

He felt like he’d found his perfect match, the one person he could see at his side for years to come but he wasn’t ready to make that confession just yet.

Not to Draco anyway.

To himself, yes.

It was a scary thought but it was also so exhilarating and Harry wanted to bask in it for a while longer — while he hadn’t said a word to Draco yet, he had the feeling that he knew and felt the same and even though open and honest communication was one of the founding pillars, they’d built their relationship on, with this particular feeling, Harry was more than happy to keep quiet and clearly so was Draco.

Suddenly hyperaware of their proximity, Harry withdrew a little and cupped Draco’s cheeks. He stared into a pair of clear silvery-grey sparkling orbs and took a moment to lose himself in them, to drown in the feelings they pulled to the surface and every emotion he could read in them.

There was love, and trust, and respect, and a healthy dose of desire, and a deep yearning for something Harry couldn’t quite discern but that hinted at Draco wanting more, much more which was exactly what he wanted.

“You are exquisite, Draco Malfoy,” he said quietly.

He watched, with glee, as Draco’s pupils dilated in response to his words.

Draco parted his lips just a smidgeon and wetted them with the very tip of his beautiful pink tongue and inhaled sharply. A visible tremble rushed through him and he lifted one hand off Harry’s shoulder and ran it through his own hair, then exhaled slowly.

“You—”

He tried to articulate himself but broke off and settled for silence instead.

Harry looked at him, really looked.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed around the nervousness, he clearly felt, and Harry smiled. He loved it when Draco responded like that to a simple compliment, when his sass fell off him like a coat he shrugged off at the door, something he was learning to leave behind occasionally in favour of showing a different side of himself, a more vulnerable one, a side of himself he’d recently allowed himself to admit to needing rather than just enjoy.

When the sass came off, it left a different kind of man behind. A man that was incredibly susceptible to the slightest touch, the smallest prompt, and a mere look. Draco became another version of himself; someone who only materialised for Harry.

It was a privilege, a special kind of honour, one that left Harry in awe of exactly how entangled they’d become, how important they were to each other and how much it meant that they could bare their souls without having to fear judgement.

“I have a proposition for you.”

Harry placed his hand right above Draco’s heart and felt it pound wildly against the ribcage that contained it or tried to continue to contain it. He let his other hand slide to the back of Draco’s neck, drew him in for a kiss, then trailed a single fingertip over his collarbone, down his arm and over the back of his hand. He toyed with Draco’s fingers, slipped his own in-between, and laced them together. With his thumb, Harry effortlessly found the sweet pressure point on the inside of Draco’s wrist; the one that, when touched, rendered Draco putty in his hands.

“You do?”

Draco’s breathy response resulted in a ridiculous amount of blood surging southward and pooling in Harry’s groin, coiling around his hips, buttocks, and his upper thighs, making him feel hot and just a little very bothered.

He deliberately ignored his rapidly growing arousal and nodded.

“Yes.”

“What kind of proposition?”

“A dirty one.”

“How dirty?”

“Very dirty. One, I don’t think you’ll say no to.”

“Oh?”

Draco arched a curious eyebrow and smirked.

Harry mirrored it, though his reason for smirking was an entirely different one. He knew exactly what Draco was thinking about and that wasn’t at all what he had in mind, though for now, he was happy to let Draco think that he’d worked it all out.

He held Draco’s gaze with ease, circled the pulse point on his wrist and gave him a gentle push. Draco took a voluntary step backwards and Harry took one forwards.

They continued until he’d walked Draco over to the sofa and the back of Draco’s legs hit the edge of its cushions. A gentle shove was all it took for Draco to fall, or let himself fall, onto the sofa and sink into it. Harry followed suit, straddled those firm strong thighs, locked his arms around Draco’s neck, and stared into his eyes, prompting another hard swallow.

He leant close and let his breath ghost over Draco’s lips, then, instead of relenting and kissing him, he pulled away and smiled.

“Bit hot in here, don’t you think?”

Draco nodded.

“Just a bit.”

“I reckon it’ll get much hotter very shortly.”

“Really?”

Draco exhaled, excitement visibly pulsing through him and showing in his eyes, in the way his body shifted and his breathing hitched, resulting in a much faster but still steady rise and fall of his chest.

Harry nodded.

“Absolutely.”

“You’re not even going to take me upstairs?”

“I’m not even going to take your clothes off.”

Draco keened and Harry felt his hands rest on his thighs. He could feel Draco’s body heat seep through the soft cotton of his chinos and watched him worry his bottom lip with his teeth, a nervous habit he resolved to when he wasn’t quite sure what to say.

Harry pulled it free with his thumb and pressed against the soft swollen wet and sensitive skin, gently rubbing over it, teasing it.

Draco opened his mouth to speak but before he could utter his first syllable, Harry devoured it in a fiery kiss, plunging his tongue inside the hot cavern and teasing a low moan from the depths of Draco’s throat.

He felt Draco’s fingers dig into his thighs, twisted his own onto Draco’s hair and pulled his head back, forcibly breaking their kiss.

Draco gasped and Harry chased his mouth with his own, continuing the kiss and the slow torture, fully enjoying the steadily growing burn of desire that was on the verge of tipping over and turning into unadulterated lust.

Harry’s other hand trailed down Draco’s front, over his stomach and down to his groin, where he could feel the prominent outline of Draco’s erection press firmly against his midnight blue trousers.

He rubbed his palm over the hard flesh and deepened the kiss, forcing Draco to surrender the last bit of oxygen he had left in his lungs, then abruptly pulled away and stopped all teasing.

Draco panted, breathlessly, and attempted to chase his lips but Harry merely pulled further out of reach and gave Draco a few moments to calm down. His silvery-grey eyes were almost black in colour and Harry knew exactly what Draco wanted but he wasn’t about to give him that, not yet anyway.

Instead, he comfortably sat back on his haunches and rested his hands above Draco’s, trapping them against his thighs. The heat that radiated from them was intense but Harry revelled in it.

He smiled.

“For what I did in that courtroom— for what I achieved, I don’t deserve to be teased this way, I deserve to be—”

“Worshipped.”

Harry finished the sentence with a wicked smile.

“Yes, you do, my love, you absolutely do deserve to be worshipped, from head to toe and back to front and left to right, every inch of you deserves to be worshipped, repeatedly, daily, and for all eternity.”

Draco flushed.

“Well, yes,” he said, rather red in the face.

“And I will— worship you that is, but that’ll have to wait until later. For now, let’s talk about my proposition.”

Draco frowned.

“I thought we already were talking about it— Perhaps not with as many words but it certainly felt very dirty and very promising and fuck— _Potter_ , why did you stop, you complete and utter deviant, you.”

Harry chuckled.

“You say the sweetest things, my love.”

Draco rolled his eyes.

“I’d much rather we weren’t talking at all.”

“Later.”

“Your self-restraint is completely and entirely ill-placed, Potter.”

“So is your sass, it makes my palms tingle and itch with the desire to connect with your bare backside.”

“You have an unhealthy obsession with spanking my arse.”

“I do, don’t I?”

“Absolutely.”

“Lucky for me, you love it.”

Draco flushed crimson and coughed and spluttered and looked all sorts of adorable although Harry was sure that saying that aloud would result in a stinging hex, one he had no desire to find himself on the receiving end of.

No, he’d much rather subject Draco to several of those. There was a nice spell, a variation of a standard stinging hex, one that was practically perfect for kinky play and he fervently hoped he’d one day get the chance to try it out on Draco.

Instead of further contemplating any future scenes they may or may not engage in, Harry held his hand out and wandlessly summoned a scroll of parchment, he’d prepared earlier today. It flew into his outstretched hand and gently wrapping his fingers around it, Harry toyed with the cream-coloured paper.

“This is my proposition to you,” he said, tapping the scroll against Draco’s chest, easily matching the rhythm of his heartbeat.

Draco curiously took the scroll and Harry watched him break the seal and unroll it.

A deep frown immediately appeared on his face and Harry firmly suppressed a smirk.

“There’s nothing on the paper,” Draco said, turning, and twisting the seemingly blank scroll in his hands.

“There is,” Harry said.

He released his wand from its holster beneath his shirtsleeve and tapped it against the blank paper, which immediately revealed one word and one word only.

**_Contract._ **

Draco inhaled sharply and looked at him over the top of the scroll.

“Harry— is this— is it— is it what I think it is?”

“It is and it isn’t,” Harry said and sliding off Draco’s thighs, he settled on the sofa beside him. “I thought about this for a while and I thought that we could perhaps do a trial run, of sorts, something not quite as intense but equally as fulfilling.”

“What do you mean?”

“A while ago you asked me for a contract, do you still remember?”

Draco nodded.

“Yes, I couldn’t forget, even if I wanted to. You turned me down, said I wasn’t ready.”

“Well— I changed my mind. Not completely, mind you, but a little.”

Another sharp intake of breath indicated Draco’s continued surprise.

He clearly hadn’t been expecting this and Harry enjoyed it thoroughly.

Surprising Draco Malfoy had, undoubtedly, become one of his favourite pastimes, especially because, at times, it was just so easy.

Harry pulled his legs up onto the sofa and tucked them underneath his body to get more comfortable.

In response, Draco shuffled and sat facing with one leg folded underneath the other.

“Am I to understand that you are offering me a contract? A proper D/s relationship? The real thing?” Draco asked.

“I am and I’m not,” Harry said.

He tapped the parchment with his wand to reveal the remainder of the agreement but placed his hand on top of it when Draco immediately began to scan it.

“I thought we could try something not quite as full-on, though I promise, you will still enjoy it thoroughly. I will do my best to make sure of that. I got the idea while we were away in Romania and I’d planned to talk to you about this earlier but then you got the case and I didn’t think the timing was right. Now that the case is off your plate, you have the headspace to think about it and that’s exactly what I want you to do, I want you to properly think about it not agree on a whim. It’s only an offer, something to give you a little bit more direction and order as you continue to explore. It’s not a request or a requirement and I don’t want you to feel pressured into saying yes.”

Draco merely furrowed his brow in response and Harry reached out to gently straighten it.

“I’ll let you read in a moment, but I want to say a few words first. It’s not a full-on 24/7 D/s contract. It’s very much part-time, though that won’t make it any less intense, I can promise you that. My current suggestion is every second weekend, except, of course, when either of us is unable to make it work. We start on Saturday at ten in the morning and finish on Sunday at six in the evening. That gives us both time to prepare beforehand and unwind afterwards and trust me you will need the time to get ready and come down. Apart from those weekends, we can, of course, play whenever we want but during the outlined timeframe and providing both our schedules allow it, you will submit to me and surrender all control.”

“All control?”

Draco whispered his question and Harry took his hand and squeezed it softly, reassuringly.

“I’m not going to demand that you ask for permission to use the bathroom but I would expect you to politely excuse yourself prior to leaving the room. If you do not, I will call you out on it and depending on whether it was involuntarily or deliberately, it could very well result in punishment or at the very least a stern reprimand with the firm reminder to remember to do better. I may also expect you to remain completely naked while at home and occasionally request that you kneel before me with your hands behind your back rather than sitting on the sofa beside me.”

The trepidation was clearly visible on Draco’s face and Harry shuffled a little closer.

“Hey, none of that now, I’m not finished explaining, hear me out first before you freak, alright?”

Draco nodded and wrapping an arm around him, Harry drew him into his arms.

They shuffled so that Harry was resting against the sofa’s armrest and Draco was leaning back against his chest, comfortably settled between his legs.

“The rules on his parchment are not final, Draco. I’ve put a lot of thought into them and I’m confident I mostly got them right but I want your opinion and you absolutely have the right to object, to change, and to outright refuse. I thought I’d let you read over the contract and we could talk about anything that’s unclear, then you can have a few days to think about it and then we’ll discuss the contract again, negotiate and make amendments. I’ve thought about everything we’ve done so far, things you are excited about and things you might enjoy trying, including prolonged periods of submission where you will allow me to be in charge and make decisions for the both of us. With all that in mind, I’ve tailored my proposal to hopefully create something you can see yourself getting excited about, however, please keep in mind that although and if we decide to sign the contract, we’ll have a written agreement in place, it’s not set in stone and we can always change things. I will never expect you to completely surrender and engage in a form of permanent total power exchange. That’s not you and that will never be you.”

Harry pressed his lips to Draco’s cheeks and kissed him softly.

“I want your opinion, whenever you’re ready to give it to me, I want your input, I need it. I want us to continue to tailor this, I want it to be something that reflects exactly what we both need and want. Anything less than that and it won’t work. For this to have a chance at happening, both of us need to make the effort to be completely honest and truthful about what we want and need.”

Draco remained silent and Harry gave him time to process, to digest, to wrap his mind around everything he’d just heard.

“You don’t expect me to sign this tonight then?”

“Absolutely not. If you did, I’d toss it in the fire, I wouldn’t accept it. This is merely an offer. You can make changes. You can even dismiss it completely. It’s all up to you, you hold all the cards.”

Draco turned his head and looked at him with a smile. It was warm and filled with love and it melted Harry’s heart. Draco’s earlier trepidation had all but vanished. He was calm and relaxed, open to what they were discussing. There was also a hint of cheekiness lingering in his eyes.

“Aren’t you supposed to be the one in control?”

“Only when you let me,” Harry said earnestly.

He toyed with Draco’s bare hand while slipping the other around his waist. Squeezing gently, he held Draco tight, enjoying the closeness between them and how good it felt to be together, in each other’s arms, talking about taking their relationship, or at least a part of it, to the next level.

“I won’t deny it, I always want to be in control, you know that much. But I won’t force you to surrender unless you explicitly request that as part of a scene. I want your submission to be a gift, something you choose to give me and you’ll only give it freely if the rules, we put in place, work for you. If they don’t, you’ll unconsciously fight me every step of the way and I don’t want that, this isn’t how it’s supposed to work.”

“Why does you saying that sound almost sweeter than you telling me that you love me?” Draco asked and Harry felt him relax further into his arms, melt into his embrace even.

Harry chuckled.

“This is me telling you I respect you and your boundaries and that I’ll always treasure everything you’ll give me. Isn’t that just a different way of me telling you that I love you?”

“Are you _trying_ to make me lose it and get all emotional in front of you, Potter? Because you’re doing a brilliant job at it,” Draco snarked, trying to hide a sniff and the fact that somehow somewhere, Harry had hit a nail squarely on the head.

He didn’t quite manage.

His emotions lay bare for Harry to see and to feel and he cherished it.

He pressed his lips to Draco’s ear.

“No, not especially but if you feel the need to, it’ll be our secret and I promise you now, I’ll kiss away every single tear you ever shed in front of me. I’ll keep you safe, always.”

Draco sniffed again and brought his hand up to his face, presumably to wipe at the corners of his eyes. Harry let it happen, let him have that precious moment of half-hidden vulnerability.

“You never fail to astound me; do you know that?”

Draco changed his tune slightly and Harry hadn’t expected anything else.

They were seldom ridiculously sappy for more than a few minutes at a time and Draco always resolved to snark to hide behind.

It was his mask, his security blanket, and one Harry had no intention of stealing away, at least for now. Maybe sometime in the future, he would. But only when he was sure that Draco didn’t need it anymore.

“Neither do you, Draco, neither do you.”

Harry whispered the words straight into Draco’s ear and felt a shudder surge through him. He held him that little bit tighter and trailed a series of tiny kisses up and down his neck. Draco automatically tilted his head a little to give him better access and Harry imagined his eyes slowly fluttering closed and his lips part as he let out a soft sigh and relished in the sweet sensations of Harry’s lips against his sensitive skin.

At some point, he caught himself enough to turn his attention towards the parchment and Harry stopped his gentle assault on Draco’s neck. He sat in silence and carefully watched Draco read over the parchment.

Every now and then, Draco shuddered a little or his breathing hitched and whenever it did, Harry either tightened his hold on him or dropped a soft kiss onto his cheek or his neck.

Since Draco was very familiar with contractual wording and Harry had kept the contract concise and to the point, or tried his best to do so anyway, it didn’t take Draco especially long finish reading and when he did, he let the parchment rest in his lap and twisting his head around, he shuffled a little so he could properly look at Harry without uncomfortably craning his neck for a prolonged period of time.

“This thing reads like bloody foreplay,” he mumbled.

Harry chuckled.

“Feeling just a little aroused, are we?” he teased.

“I was aroused long before I started reading this, Potter, and if I’m perfectly honest, before I even came over, but someone decided to brutally end our make-out session in favour of talking contracts. To be quite honest, at this stage I’m just really, really horny and I absolutely just want to jump you.”

Harry quirked an eyebrow at Draco and grinned.

“Do you now?”

Draco nodded.

“Well, you’re welcome to try, I certainly don’t have any objections to being jumped.”

“Nah, you’ll just turn the tables on me and do something devious and I’ll end up on my backside or over your knees or in some over compromising position that’ll leave you in control and me surrendering in some shape or form.”

Harry smiled.

“That all sounds very good to me.”

“It would, wouldn’t it?”

Draco chuckled, then glanced down at the parchment in his lap.

He placed his hand on top, then gently curled his fingers around it.

“I really like it and I definitely want to give it a shot but it’s been a long day and I can’t think straight; I’ll need a couple of days.”

“As I said, you can sleep on it. Take your time with it.”

“I will— But I just— I— thank you, Harry. This— it means a lot to me.”

“It does to me too, Draco,” Harry said.

He cupped Draco’s face again and drew him in for a kiss. Compared to their earlier battle of the tongues, this one was gentle, affirming, and loving, though when they broke away again, they were still breathless and when Draco transferred the parchment over to the coffee table and pushed him into a horizontal position, Harry did not object.

Draco draped himself all over him and when their cocks rubbed together in the process, Harry merely let out a low grown and locked his arms around Draco’s waist, firmly keeping him in place and basked in the pressure and the weight of feeling Draco on top of him.

“Can we continue with where we stopped earlier?” Draco asked and Harry smiled.

“Sure.”

“Good, because I don’t think I’ve properly thanked you for the flowers, the clothes, the coffee and the bath. You, Mr Potter, are rather amazing. I think I may just keep you around, you certainly have your uses.”

“You, Mr Malfoy, rather have your uses too.”

* * *

* * *

Blinking into the dark of the room, Harry rolled over and pressing his face into the pillow, he yawned. He had no idea what time it was and he most definitely didn’t want to know. He also didn’t know why he had woken up.

Draco’s bedroom was still pitch-dark and as such it absolutely wasn’t time to be awake or up. He stretched his feet underneath the duvet and reached out for Draco with the very intention to curl himself around him and fall back asleep.

Instead, his hand met cold sheets and, in an instant, Harry was wide awake and sitting up in bed, he looked around the room. He was alone. Draco’s side of the bed was empty and had apparently been empty for a while.

Frowning into the dark, Harry reached over and grabbed his glasses from the nightstand. He pushed them onto his nose, yawned again, and moving his legs over the edge of the bed, he got to his feet and stretched a little, then moved across the room to peek into the bathroom but found it empty and dark.

He sighed, pulled the door to Draco’s bedroom open and quietly and carefully made his way down the carpeted stairs and looked around. The kitchen was empty but upon second glance, he spotted Draco by the windows in the living room. He stood facing away from him, eyes cast out onto the dark street and mug in hand.

To avoid startling him, Harry softly called his name and as the sound of his voice floated across the room, Draco turned around and looked at him.

“Can’t sleep?” Harry asked.

Draco nodded.

Harry crossed the room and reached out to gently squeeze Draco’s shoulder.

“I don’t think the coffee is going to help you fall asleep,” he said with a casual glance at the contents of Draco’s mug.

“Didn’t drink any, just wanted something warm to hold on to.”

Draco set the full mug of coffee down on the windowsill and looked at him.

Harry smiled.

“Was I not good enough for that?” he said teasingly.

Draco rolled his eyes.

“You were asleep, didn’t want to wake you.”

Harry shrugged.

“I’m awake now,” he said and pulled Draco into a comforting hug.

Draco came willingly.

He sneaked his arms around Harry’s shoulders and buried his face in the crook of his neck. Harry felt him inhale deeply and tightening his hold on Draco, he simply held him and soothingly ran the palm of his hand up and down Draco’s back.

“You smell good, Sir.”

Harry chuckled softly.

He could tell that Draco wasn’t being playfully submissive or even sassy. He was genuinely craving the thrill of submission although, given the time of the night, Harry wasn’t entirely sure that Draco consciously realised what his subconscious seemed to want — or if he did, he’d certainly spent a bit of time thinking about it.

“Thank you, my little prince.”

In response, Draco hummed softly. The vibrations felt good against his neck and Harry tightened his hold on Draco, pulling him flush against his body and relishing in the fact that Draco’s nightwear was loose and offered easy access — he wasn’t feeling especially devious, it was a little too late or too early for that but he did enjoy touching Draco.

Harry slipped his bed-warm fingers underneath Draco’s top and gently caressed the soft skin of his lower back, then unhurriedly trailed his fingertips up and down Draco’s spine.

Draco hummed again and Harry smiled.

“My sweet little prince, you’re precious, do you know that?”

With Draco, a little bit of praise went a long way. It did wonders to the way he reacted and spoke and Harry could feel him relax completely in his embrace. He continued to touch his fingers to Draco’s bare skin and wasn’t at all surprised by Draco’s soft-spoken plea.

“Need you, Sir.”

A low whine escaped Draco’s lips, a delicious and very promising sound that ignited something fierce in Harry’s heart.

He ran his fingertips along the waistband of Draco’s pyjama bottoms, squeezed his hips and continued to hug him tightly for several long minutes.

This certainly wasn’t the first time Draco showed his submissive side out of his own accord and outside a scene or the warmup to a scene but it didn’t make it any less thrilling for Harry who loved to watch and experience as Draco slowly continued to explore the side of him that enjoyed letting go.

It wasn’t just about a bit of power play anymore. Now it was about fulfilling a desire, a burning need, a craving, something that helped to restore the balance inside of him, another way to relieve pressure and forget about all the things he was responsible for — just for a while, a couple of hours, a day or two perhaps.

“What do you need, my little prince?” Harry asked.

He kept his voice low and mostly soft, yet gave it a firm undertone, one Draco could cling to, one that allowed him to continue to remain relaxed as Harry provided him with the reassurance that he was there to take over the reins.

“You, Sir,” Draco mumbled.

Instead of pushing him to further explain himself, Harry correctly deduced that Draco was simply looking for him to be a bit assertive and to show his ability to control him.

Harry had absolutely no problem doing that and taking hold of Draco’s hands, he pulled them off his shoulders and moved them behind his back, effectively restraining them.

For a moment, Draco struggled, attempting to break free but Harry clicked his tongue and tightened his grip on Draco’s wrists, squeezing them harder.

“Tsk, if you want to surrender, don’t fight me,” he said. “There’s no point to it, I will win.”

Draco stopped and his arms went slack.

“That’s better, my little prince. Now, look at me.”

Draco straightened up a little and pulling back, he met Harry’s gaze but averted his eyes when Harry smiled softly.

“No. Don’t. Look at me,” Harry said a little more firmly.

Draco hesitated for a bit, then met his gaze again but flushed a little.

“My pretty little prince.”

Draco’s blush intensified.

“Precious boy.”

Draco’s cheeks turned crimson and he pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and gnawed on it.

Harry smiled.

He continued to restrain Draco’s wrists behind his back with one hand and pressing the thumb of his other hand to Draco’s lips, he stopped him from continuing to worry his bottom lip.

“I love it when you blush for me, my love, such a pretty sight.”

Draco’s eyelids fluttered and he mewled softly.

Harry chanced his luck and kissed him, softly at first, slow and teasing, then fiercely passionate and bordering on possessive.

Draco surrendered to the kiss and when Harry pulled away, they were both a bit breathless.

Not wasting any time, and rather disinclined to remain in the living room, Harry pulled Draco up the stairs with him and they returned to Draco’s bedroom.

Once there, Harry boldly sat down on Draco’s side of the bed and leaning back on his arms he looked at Draco, who stood in front of him with his hands behind his back, and smirked.

“Next time you want to be kissed senseless, feel free to wake me up, my little prince. I won’t mind,” he teased.

For a moment it looked like Draco wanted to roll his eyes at him but he didn’t. Instead, he surprised him by taking a step closer and sinking to his knees in front of Harry.

Harry sat up straight and running his fingers through Draco’s hair, he smiled softly.

“Such a good boy, you are. I do love seeing you on your knees and you know it too,” he whispered.

Draco held his gaze, blinked, and smiled but remained otherwise silent.

“Now, will you tell me the real reason why you couldn’t sleep?”

Draco sighed.

“There really isn’t any point in trying to keep it from you, is there?”

Harry chuckled.

“Nope. I’ll get it out of you one way or another although considering the ungodly hour I’d prefer your cooperation.”

“Will you laugh?”

“Have I ever?”

Draco shook his head.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t feel silly about it though.”

“Well, don’t. I won’t laugh and I most definitely will not think you’re silly. I’m far too preoccupied with the fact that you’re on your knees in front of me to concern myself with frivolous thoughts about whether your reasons to be up at this hour of the night is silly or not.”

Draco sat back on his haunches and let out a low sigh.

“The contract. Ever since you offered it to me, I can’t stop thinking about it. I think about it every day, all day.”

Harry smiled.

He ran his fingers through Draco’s hair and caressed his cheek with this thumb, then leant forward to place a gentle kiss on his lips.

“You want it that much, hm?”

Draco nodded.

“I do. I know we still need to talk about it and finalise it but I keep thinking about it and I can’t turn those thoughts off. Admittedly, I’ve not been trying very hard to do so but it’s got me all excited and terrified at the same time. You sprung it on me, I wasn’t expecting that sort of surprise at all and I do think I feel ready to try it, or readier than I was a few months ago anyway. But I’m also terrified.”

Harry silently retrieved Draco’s hands and squeezing them gently, he smiled at him.

“Why are you terrified, my love?”

“It’ll changes things, it feels like it’s going to make it all real and I’m scared. I don’t want to mess this up and I don’t want to mess us up.”

Draco sighed and instead of continuing to look at Harry, he looked at their linked hands.

“Draco, my love, thank you for opening up to me, this was a brave thing to do and I love you even more for trusting me with your private thoughts. Now, listen to me, signing the contract won’t change a damn thing between us. You are, primarily, my boyfriend and that’s what you’ll always be. You are my equal and I will never treat you as any less than that unless you explicitly ask me to as part of a pre-negotiated scene.”

Harry paused for a moment and squeezed Draco’s hands to offer physical comfort.

“The contract gives us a set of rules, a clear outline of the things you want and don’t want, and what I’m allowed to do to and with you and especially what I’m not allowed to do. Writing it all down, it’s certainly going to make it more real and if you do step over the line, you’ll know exactly what will happen but you need to realise two things, two very important things. First, I offered you a temporary sort of contract because I think you’re able to take it and that you can handle the experience. Second, I will never expect you to jump head first into it. There won’t be a magic spell that will force you to your knees the moment you signed on the dotted line and I won’t collar you and make you wear my mark every day all day. Yes, I will have your written consent but that will not stop me from asking you how you feel about things. I will still check in with you. I will still ask if you’re OK and I will always consider your needs and wants first. It doesn’t work any other way.”

“I know all that, or at least I think I do,” Draco said softly. “And despite it, I’m still terrified.”

“If you told me you weren’t, I wouldn’t believe you. It’s a big thing. You’ve never done this before, it’s all still new for you but I trust that you’re ready to handle it although ultimately that decision lies with you. I can only offer; I won’t make you sign.”

“I know. See, and now you know why I feel silly.”

Harry smiled and let go of Draco’s hands. He cupped his cheeks instead.

“You’re not silly but I am a little amused, I will admit that. You seem to have convinced yourself that I’m not terrified and that I’m walking into this with no ounce of trepidation at all. Well, let me set you straight, Draco Malfoy, because you’ve got it all wrong. I may be more experienced than you, I may have done this before but that doesn’t mean I’m not terrified because I am. It’s something new and while I can assure you that it won’t change much, just put things in order, I absolutely am terrified. For me signing a contract with you means taking responsibility for you and your wellbeing, your physical and emotional health, your safety. It’s a big deal, Draco, it’s not something I will ever take lightly or a decision you’ll see me make on a whim. Signing a contract requires the willingness to be responsible for someone, the ability, and the desire to care for them and keep them well and safe. There’s so much more to it than just the domination and submission aspect during a scene and I take it very, very seriously.”

“I know you do, Harry. Thank you for your honesty.”

Harry smiled.

“I will always be honest with you, whether you like it or not.”

“I won’t ever fault you for it. At this stage, I’m too accustomed to it.”

“Do remain that way, it’s one thing about me that will never change, I can promise you that.”

Harry leant forward and kissed Draco on the lips, then let go of his face and taking his hands, he told Draco to get onto the bed while he shuffled backwards. They both lay down and wrapping his arms around Draco, Harry held him tight and wandlessly spelt the duvet over them.

“You’re far too precious and too important for me to take a chance on our relationship with this. I love you, Draco.”

Draco smiled into the dark.

“I love you too. Thank you for being my sanity.”

“Always, my love. Now, let’s sleep. We can talk more in the morning or after work.”

“I’d rather have sex in the morning than talk. It’s been a few days.”

Harry laughed.

“We can have sex now if you want.”

“Only if you agree to a lazy morning in bed, I’ll need the extra sleep if you’re going to insist on tiring me out now.”

“No problem, I've got a meeting at eleven but otherwise my morning is free so there’s plenty of time to be lazy with you. We can talk or brunch in bed or—”

“Let’s have breakfast at our coffee shop.”

Harry chuckled.

“Deal. Now, Malfoy, less talk, and more action, please. If you want sex, you’re most definitely overdressed for the occasion.”

“Do something about it then, you’re in charge.”

“Am I?”

Draco nodded.

“I want you to be.”

“ _Ngh_ , you say all the right things, my pretty little prince.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Harry dropped the bombshell. He offered a contract.  
> What do we all think about that?  
> Do we think Draco will sign it (eventually)?
> 
> Thoughts/Opinions aside, contracts are a big deal in BDSM play, they are written consent forms between players and very important when any sort of power exchange is involved. Some contracts are short and precise, some are several pages long.
> 
> It really depends what the involved parties are into and how detailed they want to be. You can find sample contracts online - either for free or available for purchase. These can be customised to fit the individual couple and relationship.
> 
> Some people prefer to write their own contracts. It doesn't have to be complicated legal jargon and it doesn't even need to be formulated like a contract. The important thing is that both parties understand what they are agreeing to and that they've discussed it properly and extensively.
> 
> Here's a little further reading on ["BDSM Contracts"](https://www.lovense.com/bdsm-blog/bdsm-contract)  
> to give you a general idea.


	53. The Joys (And Trials) Of Negotiating With A Lawyer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm ever so chuffed that so many of you seem to like my Author's Notes and the additional reading I provide - I assure you I select the material carefully to make sure the article represents BDSM accurately. Thank you so much for your interest and your willingness to keep an open mind and learn something new.
> 
> It's truly appreciated.
> 
> Today's chapter is rather short(ish) but I think you'll enjoy it either way.
> 
> Love,  
> Selly x

* * *

Harry groaned and disbelievingly stared at the seven-page contract; Draco had spread out in front of him on the kitchen table. He reached for his coffee mug and took a rather large sip of the hot liquid.

Words like _fulfil_ , _herein_ , _hereinafter_ , and _hereto_ persistently floated around his mind, making his head spin until he felt dizzy.

“I need Firewhiskey to understand this,” he said with a heavy sigh.

“I highly doubt getting inebriated is the right answer here. Unless, of course, your brain functions better when you’re killing off your grey cells with highly potent alcohol.”

“Whatever have you done, Draco? You drew up a completely new agreement.”

“I did, didn’t I? Yours lacked, and I’ll endeavour to be polite here, a certain amount of preciseness.”

The deliberately sly smirk on Draco’s face resulted in Harry letting out another groan. He set his coffee mug down again and pressed the balls of his hands against his eyes, then burying half his face in his hands, he shook his head and consciously reminded himself to inhale and exhale before looking up and fixing his gaze on Draco.

“It’s a part-time D/s agreement, Draco. You’re not selling your soul to the devil and I’m neither trying to buy a house nor do I need to take out a loan at Gringotts.”

“And that means being unspecific is acceptable?”

Draco asked his question with a raised eyebrow, blatantly challenging him to a debate.

This time, Harry resisted the urge to let out a third groan.

Instead, he simply resolved to drink more coffee.

Anything to keep him alert.

He’d tried his best to be precise and clear in his initial agreement but after they’d negotiated over a few soft and hard limits, as well as the types of punishment, he would be allowed to resort to, Draco had offered to draw up a new agreement, one that incorporated everything they had discussed with clear and concise phrasing.

Harry had, _stupidly_ he now thought, agreed and while he had no problem understanding the legal jargon on the seven pages of parchment in front of him, the new contract thoroughly did his head in.

The archaic language, the long sentences with all their main and sub-clauses, the _detail_ , especially the detail.

It was explicit and thorough, extremely thorough.

It was, without a doubt, the work of a talented young lawyer who knew how to use the written word to his advantage…or did he?

“Whatever was I thinking?”

Harry mumbled the question to himself, not quite suppressing the sigh that demanded to leave his mouth, yet not quite letting it out.

To his ears, it sounded like a strange, resigned humming noise and he frowned.

“I did this for you, you know. Your initial phrasing of certain transgressions, I absolutely would have argued my way out of every single one of them, you were that precise,” Draco said with a mild shrug.

“Why did you have to study law? Why are you a prosecutor? Why couldn’t you just become a Potion’s Master or, I don’t know, a spoilt rich brat with a large fortune to spend however and on whatever you please? You are absolutely and unequivocally worse than Hermione Granger and I can’t believe I’m actually saying this.”

“I hate to break it to you, Potter, but I am a spoilt rich brat with a large fortune to spend however and on whatever I please.”

Draco chuckled and Harry abruptly scraped his chair back and got to his feet.

He moved at lightning speed and standing in front of Draco, Harry leant forward and placed one hand on top of the table and the other on the back of Draco’s chair.

If Draco wanted to turn this into a game, _fine_ , two could play and Harry certainly wasn’t above using his dominant side to help him gain an advantage and perhaps also teach Draco a little lesson in the process.

He lowered his voice to a husky drawl and cleared his throat to get Draco’s full attention, although he was sure he’d had it the moment he’d gotten to his feet.

Draco slowly turned his head and Harry watched him swallow hard, observed the way his Adam’s apple bobbed and his eyes darted back and forth. He tilted his head back a little to bring a bit of distance between both their faces.

For now, Harry did not chase after him.

“You know what, my little prince, barrister or not, it’s really delightfully amusing how you seem to have convinced yourself that you’d manage to talk yourself out of anything, because, _sweetheart_ , I’d have you bound and gagged faster than you can think, let alone utter, the word _objection_. Up in the playroom, you do as you’re told, always. I accept no backtalking, least of all from you. Your sass is welcome everywhere except inside that room and when you’re under my control. Try it once and you’ll pay the price and trust me, my love, I have my ways to ensure you’ll never try it again. I suggest you don’t tempt me, or do but only if you absolutely can’t resist the temptation and desperately want to find out exactly what I’ll do to you.”

Harry pulled back a little, straightened up and perching himself on the edge of the table, he crossed his arms over his chest and smirked. Draco was looking up at him with his pupils blown wide open and he visibly trembled, squeezing his own thighs tightly in a rather pathetic attempt to ground himself. He had parted his lips and was breathing raggedly. His flushed cheeks were pink in colour and Harry itched to cup them, to caress them and to press the tip of his thumb to Draco’s mouth.

He thoroughly delighted in how little effort it had taken to make Draco fall apart at the seams, to tear him wide upon and leave him excited and perhaps just a little fearful, though not afraid enough to send him running for the hills but rather just enough to have him crave more of the same. It was frightfully easy to push Draco over the edge; he was just so damn responsive and Harry absolutely loved every single second of it.

“I— you— the clauses— there was— the— the phrase— phrasing— it—”

Harry tried and failed not to delight in how quickly he had managed to reduce Draco, who usually had all the words, to a stammering quivering mess. He leant forward and smiled in a completely irritatingly smug and somewhat predatory way.

“The phrasing was perfectly satisfactory, _sweetheart_ , all you did was to dig your own grave here, really. Since you wrote this thing, there’s absolutely no way you’ll talk yourself out of anything that you did not explicitly state in your hard limits. I really would have thought you’d be smarter than that, that you’d leave yourself a bit of wriggle room, but if you want absolute clarity and if you want to give me full control, I certainly won’t turn you down. And Draco, I promise you, I’ll find that one weak spot, the one that’ll have you fall apart in front of me and I’ll exploit it until I have you on your knees begging, pleading for mercy.”

Draco let out an anguished sort of groan, one that sounded like he’d just been mentally tortured and successfully beaten at his own game.

Watching the realisation dawn on him was just beautiful and Harry revelled in it more than he probably should.

“Merlin help me.”

Draco exhaled audibly and somehow found it in him to lift his hands and comb his fingers through his hair, ruffling it up and leaving it in perfect disarray.

His hands were still shaking and Harry caught them swiftly and squeezed them gently.

He softened his expression a little and smiled.

“Merlin won’t help you much here, I’m afraid, your safeword, however, most definitely will. So long as you’ll remember that one, you’ll be safe with me, I swear.”

“You did this on purpose, didn’t you? You deliberately wrote it in a way that would make me suggest a rewrite and when I did, and don’t think I don’t remember, you very happily accepted my offer.”

“Smart cookie, I beat you at your own game, didn’t I? Bit of acting here, bit of pretending there, and you fell right into my little honey trap, didn’t you, my little prince?” Harry teased shamelessly. “I told you before, I’m very good at fucking with your mind, better than you’ll ever be.”

“You absolute fucking deviant, you. I hate you right now, I really do.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do. I absolutely do.”

Draco attempted to look cross but failed spectacularly. Harry decided not to point it out to him but enjoyed the half-hearted glare anyway.

“You really don’t.”

Harry laced their fingers together and nudging Draco’s chair back; he sat astride his thighs and stole a cheeky kiss, then brought Draco’s arms around his waist, silently prompting him to hug him and keep him close.

“I think you’re excited. Your amendments have most certainly upped the stakes a little, made things more interesting, although if you’re not comfortable signing we can continue to negotiate or I can rephrase it again to make it less iron-clad. I’m more than happy to give you back your wriggle room, although I can tell you right now, it won’t help you in the slightest, you’ll end up on your knees or tied up or both either way.”

“No,” Draco breathed.

“No, what?” Harry asked.

“Leave it like this— It— I want— I want it this way, _please_.”

Harry smiled and pressed his lips against Draco’s.

He pulled back briefly, locked eyes with Draco and held his gaze for several long seconds before leaning in again. He pried Draco’s lips apart with a gentle swipe of his tongue and enticed him to participate in a sweet, slow kiss. Harry unhurriedly explored the well-known territory, deliberately teased and taunted, and kept the kiss all kinds of playful.

He felt Draco’s hands grip his hips tightly, felt his fingertips digging into his flesh, silently insisting on more. Harry didn’t give in and each time Draco’s tongue or lips demanded more, he broke the kiss and pulled back just far enough to make it impossible for Draco to come chasing after him.

It was a delicious little game and they played it for nearly half an hour, or so it felt.

In reality, Harry had no idea how long they’d been kissing but he felt rather proud of his self-restraint since he could clearly feel the outline of the prominent bulge of Draco’s erection and his own cock wasn’t any less excited about their closeness.

Eventually, he did, however, put a stop to their sweet canoodling, though if only to twist around and gather up the pages of the now iron-clad contract, Draco had so kindly drawn up.

“Are you absolutely sure you don’t want to change anything about it?” he asked.

“Quite certain,” Draco nodded.

“Shall we sign it then?”

Harry summoned an ordinary Muggle pen from his study and toyed with it, spinning it around with his thumb and index finger until Draco took it from him with an exasperated sigh and an admonishing glare.

“For the fact that you can be so wonderfully dominant, you can be a complete child too.”

Harry shrugged and idly sorted through the pages, putting them into the right order.

“Without being too depressing, I’m catching up on all the times I missed out when I actually was a child,” he said and pausing, he smiled at Draco. “What?”

“Nothing, just carry on. Seriously, be childish, be romantic, be dominant, be possessive, be everything you want to be when you’re with me. I want all of you, don’t you dare hold back.”

Smiling, Harry remained silent.

He didn’t have the proper words to formulate an appropriate response to what Draco had just said but it made his heart skip several beats and the butterflies in his stomach fluttered wildly and uncontrollably.

A strange and all-encompassing warmth spread through him and he basked in the feeling, though not without wondering when exactly he’d gotten lucky enough to deserve someone who accepted him with all his flaws and kinky penchants.

This wasn’t luck, it was so much more than that.

It was special and intense and something he knew he wasn’t ever going to take for granted. He looked down at the papers in his hands. He’d properly sorted them and they were patiently waiting for them to put their signature on the dotted line at the bottom of the last page. Lifting his gaze, He looked at Draco and swallowed, suddenly feeling inexplicably emotional and at a complete loss for words.

A part of him wanted to turn and hide but another part of him vividly remembered the first time he and Draco had enjoyed a home-cooked meal in Draco’s flat.

That evening, when things had gotten rather intense between them, Draco had been the one to be bold. He’d been the one to put it all on the line by making a confession that had broken Harry’s resolve to hold back. It had broken so completely and so perfectly that he didn’t ever want to be whole again.

_I like you a lot, you know_ , Draco had whispered, courageously voicing his feelings, and giving their flirtatious banter a different kind of meaning altogether.

Back then, he’d been the one to make it real. He’d put words to their actions and he’d forced Harry’s hand and now he was doing it again, only in a completely different way, one Harry had no hope to even attempt to rationalise.

“What?” Draco asked.

“Nothing— just, you know, reminiscing.”

“About what?”

“The night you told me you like me. Your exact words were, I believe, _I like you a lot, you know_.”

“That was ages ago,” Draco said with a mild flush to his cheeks.

It intensified following Harry’s response.

“Feels like yesterday.”

“Sentimental fool, you. Seemed like the right thing to say at the time.”

Draco shrugged, casually pretending not to feel affected by the memory but his eyes spoke a different language altogether. He shifted and gently nudged Harry off his thighs.

Harry grudgingly obliged and moved to sit in the chair next to Draco.

From there, he watched as Draco took the contract from his hands and put it down on the table in front of him. He had to move his chair a little closer and once he’d settled, Harry pressed his knee to the side of Draco’s thigh, relishing in the warmth that seeped through their clothing and the complete innocence of the touch.

Draco leant forward, leafed through the pages until he’d reached the last one and holding the pen in his right hand, he signed with a flourish and without hesitation, then placed the pen on top of the signed paper and pushed it over to Harry.

“If you sign, I’m yours.”

Harry took the pen with a chuckle.

“I thought you already were.”

“This will make it official.”

“You have no idea how giddy I am about this,” Harry said.

He toyed with the pen for a moment, then signed too, though his signature was less of an elegant flourish and more of an illegible scrawl.

“I think I can imagine, you’re positively bubbling on the inside,” Draco smiled.

He placed his hand on top of Harry’s and squeezed. Harry turned his head and the moment their eyes locked he temporarily forgot how to breathe. It took him several moments to restore some sort of resemblance of self-control but he could tell that Draco had noticed either way.

“We should celebrate,” he suggested weakly and fervently hoped that Draco wasn’t going to ask him to define how exactly how they should commemorate because his mind was presently delightfully blank.

This past week and been somewhat of a rollercoaster ride with many an evening spent discussing the details of their agreement, trying to formalise it all. Some of those evenings had, inevitably, ended in his playroom, although they hadn’t indulged in any real play but had discussed several different toys, especially those Draco was decidedly curious about.

They hadn’t changed much about Harry’s initial offer, only making minor additions here and there and scraping next to nothing but talking about it had certainly left them both feeling quite aroused and in the mood for plenty of sex.

That very same sort of atmosphere, thick and raw with emotions and unspoken desires, filled Grimmauld Place’s kitchen now.

Even though his brain still refused to resume functioning normally, Harry still managed to decide that celebrating their first part-time D/s contract should absolutely include them both getting naked and spending an extraordinarily long time shagging each other senseless. He wanted it to happen very soon and preferably for the rest of the day and at the very least part of the evening, if not most of it.

“We absolutely should, _Sir_ ,” Draco teased him with a sassy smirk and a cheeky sparkle in his smouldering silvery-grey eyes.

A low growl involuntarily escaped Harry’s throat.

He was helpless whenever Draco sprung that very form of address on him.

He didn’t think he would ever learn to resist the urge to want to dominate Draco whenever he called him _Sir_ and he was quite certain that Draco had worked that out a while ago. Somehow, it had become Draco’s subtle way of asking him to take control and it worked perfectly for them both. For now, anyway. Sometime down the line, Harry thought, he very much wanted to train Draco to learn how to properly ask him to dominate him.

“What do you have in mind?”

“Hm, don’t know, a trial run perhaps? Care to take me upstairs to your playroom and have your wicked way with me?”

“Just how wicked do you want me to be?”

“Very.”

Harry regarded Draco for a moment, then glanced at the signed contract and back at Draco.

He reached for his hand, laced their fingers together and slowly rising to his feet, he pulled Draco up with him and straight into his arms.

He could practically feel Draco’s anticipation; it was as thick as his own excitement and without much hesitation he crashed his mouth onto Draco’s, claiming him in a rough, deep, and very needy kiss.

Without breaking away from it, he pulled Draco out of the kitchen and they somehow managed to make their way up the stairs without falling over their own feet or each other.

Harry wasn’t entirely sure how, it was something bordering close to a miracle, but his mind was presently busy focusing on other, more important, matters.

If Draco wanted him to be wicked, he would be wicked. After all, he was rather good at being wickedly dominant.

He could think of a few extremely devious spells that would most definitely reduce Draco to a quivering wreck and possibly even have him beg for his release, providing he still had the energy left to do so, though Harry rather doubted that to be the case.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since I shared some of my writing music, so here we go.
> 
> ["Dua Lipa's Want To"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bS3uSzk4VwY)  
> definitely played a lot while I wrote this chapter and the next.
> 
> ["OneRepublic's Let's Hurt Tonight"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8wGN7D03Nho)  
> also made a great impact during the creative process. The lyrics are just beautiful and to me they depict the creation of a contract.
> 
> And finally, ["Selena Gomez's Good For You (Explicit) ft. A$AP ROCKY"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DXKHCgNFk1I)  
> just reminds me of how much Draco wants to be good for Harry, how much he enjoys the submission and the way Harry takes care of him, and loves him.
> 
> If you're going to listen to any of these songs, I really hope you enjoy them.


	54. The Contract

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a lot of negotiation with myself, with K, and a few trusted kinky friends ( _and a hell of a lot more back and forth in my own mind_ ) I decided to included Harry's and Draco's actual contract in the story.
> 
> Once I'd made that decision and consciously realised I'd actually have to write a contract, I nearly wanted to give up on the whole story and most definitely shed a few tears of frustration. Thus started a very long search for a contract sample I could twist and tweak to suit Harry's and Draco's needs and when I'd finally found one, I actually rewrote the whole damn thing.
> 
> The language is, as Harry so eloquently put it in Chapter 53, somewhat _archaic_ and you're welcome to skip over this chapter if you want ( _it just includes the contract, there's no actual dialogue or anything_ ), however, if you're even just a little bit curious about what a proper D/s agreement might look like or if you want to know what Harry and Draco agreed on, I do recommend that you at least skim over it. Of course, giving the whole thing a proper read would be most beneficial ( _especially because my own blood, sweat, and tears went into the creation of the document_ ), however, I will leave that choice entirely up to you and will not be offended either way.
> 
> It's contract language, although I've tried my best to make it as clear as possible, then I asked a lawyer friend of mine to look over it and he promptly changed half of the phrasing to compliment Chapter 53. He was not previously aware that I myself am of the kinky sort so I got the strangest look ever and he most definitely did not buy me telling him that _"it's for a story"_. ( _It bloody well is, but hey, whatever._ ) I did not answer his question as to whether I am The Dominant or the submissive, which left him feeling rather frustrated. ( _Payback is sweet._ )
> 
> If you have any questions with regards to the contract, please do let me know. I'll try my best to answer you. If you have a question to a specific paragraph, I would be ever so grateful if you could include the clause number as it'll make it easier for me to find the relevant information.
> 
>  **Add. Note:** Since I was asked this and it’s a very valid question, I’m going to add my answer to the A/Ns for everyone. In case you wonder why Harry’s safeword is not in the contract; it is very rare for a Dom to have a safeword. If they don't want to do a certain scene or find it upsetting they can refuse, stop, or change things because they have that power.
> 
> Harry hasn't safeworded with Draco because he doesn't have to, he does it with Caleb as a joke but they are not in a D/s relationship and never were. Harry’s safeword is left over from long ago when he was a sub.
> 
> A Dom’s needs and wants are taken into account in the contract because typically they write them so they will remove or refuse to put anything into the contract that they are uncomfortable doing.

* * *

* * *

**Temporary D/s Contract**

_Between_

**Harry James Potter (“The Dominant”)**

_And_

**Draco Lucius Malfoy (“The submissive”)**

_ The Parties Agree As Follows: _

  * 1 The following are the terms of a binding contract between Harry James Potter, henceforth referred to as “ _The Dominant_ ” and Draco Lucius Malfoy, henceforth referred to as “ _The submissive_ ”.



_ Fundamental Terms: _

  * 2 The fundamental purpose of this contract is to allow the submissive to explore his sensuality and his limits safely, with due respect and regard for his needs, his limits, his safety, and his wellbeing.


  * 3 The Dominant and the submissive agree and acknowledge that all that occurs under the terms of this contract will be consensual, confidential, and subject to the agreed limits and safety procedures set forth in this contract. If required, a revised version of the contract may stipulate additional limits and safety procedures and once signed by both parties it shall supersede the current version.


  * 4 Adherence to any limits and safety procedures set forth in this agreement is fundamental to this contract. Any breach shall render the contract void with immediate effect and each party agrees to be fully responsible to the other for the consequence of any breach.



_ Roles: _

  * 5 The Dominant shall take responsibility for the wellbeing, safety, the proper training, guidance, and discipline of the submissive. He shall decide the nature of such training, guidance, and discipline and the time and place of its administration, subject to the agreed terms, limitations, and safety procedures set out in this contract or agreed additionally under paragraph three of the fundamental terms and as part of a signed addendum to the existing contract.


  * 6 If at any time the Dominant should fail to keep to the agreed terms, limitations, and safety procedures set out in this contract or agreed additionally under paragraph three of the fundamental terms and as part of a signed addendum to the existing contract the submissive is entitled to terminate this contract forthwith.


  * 7 Subject to that proviso and to paragraphs 2-4 under of the fundamental terms the submissive is to serve and obey the Dominant in all things. Subject to the agreed terms, limitations, and safety procedures set out in this contract or agreed additionally under paragraph three of the fundamental terms and as part of a signed addendum to the existing contract the submissive shall without query or hesitation offer the Dominant such pleasure as he may require and he shall accept without query or hesitation his training, guidance, and discipline in whatever form it may take.



_ Commencement And Term: _

  * 8 The Dominant and submissive enter into this contract on The Commencement Date fully aware of its nature and undertake to abide by its conditions without exception.


  * 9 This contract shall be effective for a period of three calendar months from The Commencement Date (“ _The Term_ ”) during which the submissive agrees to serve and obey the Dominant.


  * 10 On the expiry of The Term the parties shall discuss whether this contract and the arrangements they have made under this contract are satisfactory. Either party may propose the extension of this contract subject to adjustments to its terms, or to the arrangements they have made under it. In the absence of an agreement to such an extension, this contract shall terminate and both parties shall be free to resume a normal relationship.



_ Availability: _

  * 11 The Submissive will make himself available to the Dominant from Saturday mornings at 10 a.m. through to Sunday evenings until 6.p.m. every other weekend and at locations to be determined by the Dominant. The exact dates (“ _The Allotted Times_ ”) have been set forth in the appendix of this contract.


  * 12 Should work commitments or other unforeseen circumstances prevent the Dominant and the submissive from entering into a formal D/s partnership on one or more of the outlined dates, they may void the pre-agreed date or discuss to arrange another date. Failure to come to an agreement to reschedule a missed session will automatically void said session.


  * 13 The Dominant reserves the right to dismiss the submissive from his service at any time and for any reason. The submissive may request his release at any time. Approval or denial of such a request is at the discretion of the Dominant and subject only to the submissive’s rights.


  * 14 During the Allotted Times the Dominant is solely responsible for any expenses incurred by the submissive.



_ Service Provisions: _

  * 15 The following service provisions have been discussed and agreed and will be adhered to by both parties during the Term and especially the Allotted Times. Both parties accept that certain matters may arise which are not covered by the terms of this contract or the service provisions, or that certain matters may be renegotiated. In such circumstance, further clauses may be proposed by way of amendment. Any further clauses or amendments must be agreed, documented, and signed by both parties and shall be subject to the fundamental terms



_ Dominant: _

  * 16 The Dominant shall always make the submissive’s health and safety a priority. The Dominant shall not at any time require, request, allow, or demand the submissive to participate at the hands of the Dominant in activities detailed under the Hard Limits in the appendix or in any activity that either party deems to be unsafe. The Dominant will not undertake or permit any action to be undertaken which could cause serious injury or risk to the submissive’s life.


  * 17 The Dominant accepts the submissive as his, to own, control, dominate and discipline during the Term. The Dominant may use the submissive’s body at any time during the Allotted Times or any agreed additional times in any manner he deems fit, sexually, or otherwise.


  * 18 The Dominant shall provide the submissive with all necessary training and guidance in how to properly serve the Dominant in the manner he wishes and desires to be served.


  * 19 The Dominant shall maintain a stable and safe environment in which the submissive may perform his duties in service of the Dominant.


  * 20 The Dominant may discipline the submissive as necessary to ensure the submissive fully appreciates his role of subservience to the Dominant and to discourage unacceptable conduct. The Dominant may flog, paddle, spank or otherwise corporally punish the submissive as he sees fit, for purposes of discipline, for his own personal enjoyment, or for any other reason, which he is not obliged to provide.


  * 21 In the administration of discipline the Dominant shall ensure that no permanent marks are made upon the submissive’s body nor any injuries incurred that may require medical attention. The use of healing potions to heal minor bruises or superficial abrasions is acceptable.


  * 22 In the administration of discipline the Dominant shall ensure that the discipline and the instruments used for the purposes of discipline are safe, and shall not be used in such a way as to cause serious harm and shall not in any way exceed the limits defined and detailed in this contract.


  * 23 In case of illness or injury the Dominant shall care for the submissive, seeing to his health and safety, encouraging and when necessary ordering medical attention when it is judged necessary by the Dominant.


  * 24 The Dominant shall not loan his submissive to another Dominant or display him in front of other people.


  * 25 The Dominant may restrain, handcuff, or bind the submissive at any time during the Allotted Times or any agreed additional times for any reason and for extended periods of time, giving due regard to the health and safety of the submissive.


  * 26 The Dominant will ensure that all equipment used for the purposes of training and discipline shall be maintained in a clean, hygienic, and safe state.



_ Submissive: _

  * 27 The submissive accepts the Dominant as his Master, with the understanding that he is now the property of the Dominant, to be dealt with as the Dominant pleases during the specifically Allotted Times and any additional agreed allotted times.


  * 28 The submissive shall obey the rules (“ _The Rules_ ”) set forth in the Appendix of this contract.


  * 29 The submissive shall serve the Dominant in any way the Dominant sees fit and shall always endeavour to please the Dominant to the best of his ability.


  * 30 The submissive shall accept without question any and all disciplinary actions deemed necessary by the Dominant and remember his status and role in regard to the Dominant at all times.


  * 31 The submissive shall not touch or pleasure himself sexually without permission from the Dominant during the Term of the contract. Should he fail to adhere to this rule, the submissive shall willingly and readily accept any form of discipline the Dominant deems appropriate to correct his behaviour.


  * 32 The submissive shall submit to any sexual activity demanded by the Dominant and shall do without hesitation or argument.


  * 33 The submissive shall accept spankings, floggings, paddling or any other discipline the Dominant should decide to administer, without hesitation, enquiry, or complaint.


  * 34 During the Allotted Times and any additional agreed allotted times the submissive shall not look directly into the eyes of the Dominant except when specifically instructed to do so. The submissive shall keep his eyes cast down and maintain a quiet and respectful bearing in the presence of the Dominant.


  * 35 The submissive has permission to speak, however, he shall do so politely and respectfully. When instructed to remain silent, the submissive shall obey without hesitation, enquiry, or complaint.


  * 36 The submissive is not required to ask for permission to leave a room, however, he shall politely inform the Dominant of his intentions, giving a period for his return.


  * 37 The submissive shall always conduct himself in a respectful manner to the Dominant and shall address his Dominant only as Sir or Harry.


  * 38 During the Allotted Times the submissive will not touch the Dominant without his express permission to do so.



_ Activities:  _

  * 39 The submissive shall not participate in activities or any sexual acts that either party deems to be unsafe or any activities detailed in the Hard Limits.


  * 40 The Dominant and the submissive have discussed the activities set out in the Appendix and recorded their agreement in respect of them in writing.



_ Safewords: _

  * 41 The Dominant and the submissive recognise that the Dominant may make demands of the submissive that cannot be met without incurring physical, mental, emotional, spiritual, or other harm at the time the demands are made to the submissive. In such circumstances, the submissive may make use of his safeword.


  * 42 The safeword “ **yellow** ” will be used to bring to the attention of the Dominant that the submissive is close to his limit of endurance.


  * 43 The safeword “ ** _Dobby_** ” will be used to bring to the attention of the Dominant that the submissive cannot tolerate any further demands. When this word is said the Dominant’s action will cease completely with immediate effect.



_ Conclusion: _

  * 44 We, the undersigned, have read and understood fully the provisions of this contract. We freely accept the terms of this contract and have acknowledged this by our signatures below.



The Dominant:          H. J. Potter

The submissive:       **Draco Malfoy**

 

**Appendix I – Rules:**

_ Obedience: _

  * 1 The submissive will obey any instructions given by the Dominant immediately without hesitation or reservation and in an expeditious manner.


  * 2 The submissive will agree to any sexual activity deemed fit and pleasurable by the Dominant except those activities which are outlined in the Hard Limits. He will do so eagerly and without hesitation.



_ Food: _

  * 3 Regular meals must be eaten and finished before the submissive is allowed to indulge in sweet treats.



_ Clothes: _

  * 4 During he Allotted Times the Dominant reserves the right to dress the submissive as he sees fit. He may also request that the submissive remain naked.



 

**Appendix II – Hard Limits:**

  * No acts involving fire play
  * No acts involving urination or defecation and the products thereof
  * No acts involving needles, knives, cutting, piercing, or blood
  * No acts involving gynaecological or other medical instruments
  * No acts involving children or animals
  * No acts that will leave any permanent marks on the skin
  * No acts involving breath control
  * No activity that involves the direct contact of electric current (whether alternating or direct), fire or flames to the body



 

**Appendix III – Soft Limits:**

_The following sexual acts are acceptable to the submissive:_

  * Masturbation
  * Fellatio
  * Anal Intercourse
  * Anal Fingering
  * Rimming


  * Swallowing semen is acceptable to the submissive.



_The use of the following sex toys is acceptable to the submissive:_

  * Vibrators _(including magical alterations)_
  * Dildos _(including magical alterations)_
  * Butt Plugs _(including magical alterations)_
  * Anal Beads _(including magical alterations)_



_Bondage, outlined as follows, is acceptable to the submissive:_

  * Spreader bars
  * Tied to furniture
  * Blindfolding
  * Gagging
  * Bondage with rope / tape / leather cuffs / magical restraints
  * Suspension



_The submissive general attitude to pain:_ 2-3

(1- likes intensely / 5- dislikes intensely)

_The following types of pain/punishment/discipline are acceptable to the submissive:_

  * Spanking
  * Paddling
  * Flogging
  * Biting
  * Ice / Cold Water
  * Non-corporal types of punishments

* * *

* * *




**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mate this to represent Harry's and Draco's signatures but what with the special formatting of the entire chapter, I didn't dare to copy the code into the text box - my apologies for being a wimp.
> 
>  
> 
> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/13414151@N02/48143179077/in/dateposted-public/)  
>   
> 


	55. A Stubborn Patient

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for a little bit of drama (and some light angst). Don't worry. Nobody dies. Someone does get hurt and no, it's not consensual but it's got nothing to do with BDSM. I'm making it sound scarier than it is right now.
> 
> I did have a lot of fun writing this chapter, although I still distinctly remember the birthing difficulties I had with the first few paragraphs. There was a ton of frustration, well over ten rewrites and a heck of a lot of moaning that ended with a serious talking to. Eventually, I managed to pull my act together and produce something I'm actually proud of.
> 
> Enjoy,
> 
> Love,  
> Selly x

* * *

Draco, his black silken Prosecutor’s robes wildly billowing behind him, breathlessly burst through the large glass double doors of St. Mungo’s Department of Magical Accidents & Emergencies and stopped the first Mediwitch that came his way.

“Harry Potter, where is he?”

He asked her outright for the only information he wanted her to give him and did not waste any time on formal pleasantries or other frivolous niceties.

“I’m afraid that’s confi—”

“That’s _not_ confidential, not for me!”

Draco snapped at the poor Mediwitch, cutting her off in an instant.

“I’m his life partner and I know he’s here, the DMLE informed me. Now, out with it, where is he?”

He was aware that he was being rather rude — and possibly also a little scary judging by the frightened look on the young Mediwitches’ face and the way her eyes darted about the corridor as she searched for an escape route — but he didn’t have the patience to calm himself enough to be polite.

Not at four thirty on a Friday afternoon and most definitely not when one of Harry’s Auror Trainees had, without knocking, invaded his own office and dragged him out of a preparatory meeting with a college, to breathlessly inform him that Harry Potter had sustained several injuries during a duel out in the field.

Draco had, of course, immediately cut the meeting short and excusing himself, he’d grabbed his wand and dashed off.

It had taken him several deep breaths to calm down enough to safely apparate over to St Mungo’s to find out what exactly had transpired without running the danger of splinching himself while he attempted the jump across the city.

He still clearly remembered his and Harry’s conversation over breakfast this morning.

Harry had lamented the fact that he had a boring meeting with Kingsley Shacklebolt and several Department Heads in the afternoon and that it wasn’t fair that those meetings had all been scheduled on a Friday afternoon — apparently there was no worse punishment in the world than being stuck in a series of meetings at the end of a stressful week. Draco could relate and sympathise; he very much felt the same.

What he, however, did not remember was Harry saying anything about heading out into the field for a mission or a raid or anything else of the sort.

Naturally, something could have always come up at the very last minute but Draco sincerely doubted that.

Besides, Director Potter himself doing fieldwork had become somewhat of a rarity in the last few months.

Harry was too swamped with paperwork to find the time and Draco loved poking fun at him for that — though half the time it got him into serious trouble (he had no regrets, somehow, Harry always managed to make those spankings sizzling hot, although the one or other time Harry had revoked his orgasm privileges he’d truly wanted to curse the man).

After all, most of his trial preparation involved dealing with stack after stack of files and knowing that Harry suffered the same sort of fate made him feel better, marginally so at least.

“T—T—Trauma One,” the Mediwitch stammered and looked all sorts of flustered.

Draco made a conscious effort to soften his expression at least a little bit.

“Thank you.”

He nodded curtly and side-stepping her he strode down the corridor, checking the signs on the doors.

Trauma One happened to be two doors’ down from the Mediwitches’ Station.

Draco knocked but instead of waiting, he pushed the door open and walked inside.

“Oh good, at least you’re upright,” he said.

Allowing his eyes to sweep over the utterly miserable-looking figure that was half sitting and half lying on top of the hospital bed in the centre of the room, Draco shook his head but inwardly he relaxed. Harry looked less than perfect but he was alive and awake and in Draco’s book those were good signs, very good signs.

A thin bedsheet covered Harry’s crotch and his legs but he was naked from the waist up and a lingering, almost perpetual, spasm of pain contorted his face. He had a bandage wrapped around his head and wasn’t wearing his glasses. His hair was messier than usual and had dirt and — Draco suspected it was dried blood — stuck to it. Most of his chest was a lovely shade of deep red bordering on purple and the sight of it made Draco wince. It looked seriously bad.

“Hmpf.”

Harry huffed, shifted a little and promptly groaned in agony.

Draco was at his bedside in two strides, carefully perching down on the very edge of the mattress.

“Potter, what the hell happened?”

“Nothing.”

Harry spoke quietly, inhaled audibly, and then whimpered.

“Fuck.”

A groan followed.

He was, quite evidently, in a whole lot of pain and while Draco felt for him, he was presently too annoyed to properly show his concern.

He knew he would, eventually, but first, he needed to give Harry a verbal bollocking for nearly scaring the living daylights out of him.

“Yeah, you absolutely look and sound like nothing happened.”

Draco scowled darkly.

“Out with it, Potter, before I break my own rules and resolve to Legilimency to get it out of you myself.”

“I actually wouldn’t be opposed to that, talking hurts,” Harry mumbled.

“Duel went wrong,” he said.

He closed his eyes and took a few shallow breaths which quite evidently required a whole lot of effort. Harry grimaced and a low moan, that made Draco shudder, escaped him.

“You were supposed to be in a meeting this afternoon. I was supposed to pick you up for dinner at six. Why were you out in the field?”

Draco was quite aware that he sounded rather accusatory but he couldn’t help himself. He was both angry at Harry for obviously sustaining an injury while in the field and beside himself with worry.

Harry didn’t answer immediately and for a moment, Draco thought that he had perhaps fallen asleep. He reached out and gently cupping Harry’s cheek, he caressed the soft skin above his cheekbones. His five o’clock shadow felt a little rough to the touch but Draco didn’t mind it. In fact, he rather liked the coarseness and the contrast between soft and rugged. He couldn’t quite put a finger on it, didn’t know why, but even like this, Harry still managed to look unbelievably handsome.

“Potter, you are and will always be a gigantic idiot,” he whispered. “Your Auror Trainee told me you took a nasty curse to the chest.”

Harry’s wearily opened his eyes and looked at him from under lowered lashes.

Even hurt and clearly in a lot of pain, his piercing green eyes had lost none of their intensity and the look, Harry gave him, managed to send a surge of electricity down Draco’s spine and ignited something fierce in Draco’s chest.

“Hm,” Harry said quietly, opting for the shortest answer possible, and closed his eyes again.

He shifted a little and let out a weak whimper.

His obvious discomfort tore at Draco’s heartstrings and he wanted to lean in and kiss Harry to make it all better. He was still furious and he still didn’t have all the answers but he didn’t know how to be angry at the pitiable figure in front of him and Harry was most definitely not putting on an act to butter him up. No, Harry absolutely looked the epitome of misery and right this moment Draco was just glad that Harry was alive and still able to talk.

Upon receiving the news of Harry’s accident, he’d for a second or two feared the worst before resolutely kicking those dark thoughts straight out of his mind, knowing that if he allowed them to consume him, he’d crawl into a corner and fervently pray to the gods to let him die.

Still, it had taken him every ounce of self-control not to stupidly attempt apparating straight from his office over to the hospital.

Unfortunately, Ministry wards only allowed Aurors to freely apparate in and out of the place. Everyone else, stupid enough to try, risked splinching themselves but having to make his way outside the building and to the nearest apparition point had given him the necessary time to take several deep breaths.

“Blithering fool,” Draco said.

He wasn’t quite sure whether he was insulting Harry for managing to get himself into danger or himself for worrying that the news of Harry’s accident might just stop his heart before he successfully made it to St Mungo’s.

Harry smiled weakly but remained silent and continuing to gently caress Harry’s cheek, Draco twisted himself a little and snatched the medical record from the foot of the bed. He awkwardly leafed to the second page and attempted to decipher the Healer’s nearly hieroglyphic cacography. He needed to know exactly what was wrong with Harry and wanted to spare him having to talk too much.

A gashing headwound that had taken several layers of spells to fix and required the application of a healing salve for the next two days. The Healers had ruled out a concussion and biting his bottom lip, Draco suppressed the urge to chuckle.

That really didn’t surprise him; it took quite a bit more than a stray curse to damage Harry’s thick skull.

However, Harry also had several bruised ribs and the Healer suspected that at least one of those was partially fractured.

According to the notes, the Mediwitches had attempted to administer Skele-Gro to aid recovery but Harry had refused to take it, citing that it tasted like horse piss.

Draco made a mental note to give Harry a stern talking to just as soon as he finished perusing the Healer’s notes.

Apparently, Harry had also fallen rather awkwardly and bruised his very attractive behind.

This made Draco chuckle and when Harry opened his eyes and made a half-hearted attempt to glare at him, he couldn’t help but laugh properly.

“Karma’s a bitch, Potter isn’t it?”

“Why?” Harry frowned.

“You get a kick out of bruising my arse and now you managed to bruise your own,” Draco said with a devious grin and when Harry glared harder, he winked.

Since his face was still very much contorted — breathing really did hurt when you had bruised ribs — it didn’t have much of an effect.

“You ask for it, I didn’t,” he mumbled.

“Aww, I’ll rub it better, my love,” Draco teased.

“Fuck off, wanker,” Harry grumbled.  
  
Draco chuckled more.

“I can’t be a wanker if I don’t have permission to wank, _Sir_.”

Harry rolled his eyes and attempted to turn away but hissed when his injuries protested immediately and dejectedly remained in his current position.

“Do you have to stay overnight?”

“Won’t.”

“That’s not what I asked, Potter, don’t be difficult.”

“They said I can go home if I have someone who’ll look after me.”

“Well, you’re in luck, I’ll take the job.”

Harry mumbled something incomprehensible and Draco leant forward to plant a soft kiss on his lips.

“Don’t worry, I’ll give you all the aftercare you want and need, Sir,” he whispered, smiling when Harry made another fruitless attempt to glower at him.

Draco thought that Harry was rather cute when he was trying to hide the fact that he wanted someone to take care of him.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Potter, I’m shocked. Whatever are you insinuating? I’m just trying to be a good boyfriend. You always look after me, now it’s my turn to return the favour.”

“Don’t need looking after.”

“Oh, but you do, Potter, you absolutely do. And this weekend you’re going to do exactly as you’re told or I’ll find a way to bruise that sexy backside of yours a little more. I’m sure I’ll find a suitable toy amongst your vast collection of impact toys.”

“Tom Riddle.”

“Yeah no, Harry, my love, your safeword won’t help you here, I’m sorry. If you voluntarily get yourself into trouble, you’ve got to be ready to deal with the consequences. Should’ve been good and stayed at the Ministry instead of heading out in the field to play the hero. Our kinky weekend is officially cancelled, you’re on bedrest until I say otherwise.”

“When did you learn to be so freaking dominant?”

“I took a crash course on the way over here.”

“Ha, bloody, ha.”

Harry rolled his eyes and winced again when his clearly badly bruised ribcage vehemently rejected the idea of breathing.

Draco felt for him and couldn’t quite stop himself from going all bossy.

Harry absolutely needed looking after.

“Right, I’m going to get some Skele-Gro from one Mediwitches. It won’t help with the bruising but at least it’ll heal those cracked ribs of yours.”

“Not taking it.”

Draco growled.

“Potter, _don’t_ test my patience, I will force it down your throat with a funnel and a tube and without the slightest hesitation.”

He wasn’t seriously angry but he wanted to make a point. Skele-Gro tasting like horse piss wasn’t an acceptable excuse to prolong one’s suffering and Draco was determined to show Harry that for the time being he had the upper hand.

“Sadist.”

Harry grumbled something else, it was entirely incomprehensible but made no further attempt to continue fighting.

Draco was quite sure that he would once it came to swallowing a large spoonful of Skele-Gro but he decided to worry about crossing that bridge when they came to it. He was about to get to his feet when the door opened with a bang that made Harry flinch and groan and none other than Ron Weasley burst into the room.

“Harry— What on earth have you—? Oh— Hello, Malfoy.”

Draco nodded curtly.

“Weasley.”

Harry instantly objected to the noise.

“Ssssh!”

“Sorry—” Ron apologised, sweeping his eyes over Harry’s injured form.

He winced at the sight and shaking his head, he sighed.

“Malfoy— Is he—?”

“He’s alright, or, well, he will be.”

Ron nodded.

“Good.”

He stood beside the bed, looking rather awkward and Draco decided that this was his cue.

“I’m going to give you two a few minutes alone,” he said, and getting to his feet, he hesitated for a moment, then reached out and briefly squeezed Ron’s shoulder.

“Thanks for coming.”

Ron smiled.

It wasn’t a full-on smile but it was better than nothing.

“I figured you’d be here but I just wanted to make sure he was OK. I’ll make sure my mother sends food and doesn’t descend upon Grimmauld Place to take care of him.”

“She wouldn’t.”

Draco was still rather terrified of Molly Weasley and the last thing he wanted was having to follow her orders while she took over nursing Harry better. He was more than capable of looking after Harry and he the idea of handing the job over to someone else filled him with dread as well as a fierce sort of possessiveness. Harry was _his_ to take care of and he vehemently rejected the idea of anyone taking that task away from him.

Ron huffed out a laugh.

“You don’t know my mother, Malfoy. She’s a complete mother hen, it’ll be difficult enough to convince her that he’s fine. Don’t worry, I’ll do my best to keep her away.”

“Thank you.”

Draco forced himself to smile, then made to leave the room.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes. Don’t make him talk too much, it hurts.”

Ron nodded in understanding and unable to resist, Draco leant forward and placed a gentle kiss on Harry’s forehead, then gave Harry and his best friend some privacy while he went to find a Mediwitch.

* * *

* * *

Draco stretched a little and grimaced when his sore neck muscles protested.

He was tired but not tired enough to give up looking after Harry, even if he was being a royal pain in the arse by being the worst and most stubborn patient he could possibly be.

Somehow, the pain made him petulant and instead of accepting help and being grateful for it, Harry fought him every step of the way — trying to get him to surrender and accept a bit of help was like trying to convince a stone to produce water.

Draco let out a little sigh, then glanced down at the phial in his hand.

With a smirk, he pushed it into his jeans pocket — he’d changed out of his Prosecutor’s robes and his formal attire the moment he and Harry had made it out of St Mungo’s and back to Grimmauld Place.

Getting Harry released had been no easy feat; the Healer-in-Charge had been adamant that Harry should stay for two days for observation. Harry had outright refused, demanding his discharge and after an exhausting half hour of back and forth, Draco had stepped in and asked the Healer to produce a form that stated Harry was going home against his Healer’s advice and at his own risk.

The journey to Grimmauld Place had taken forever.

In Harry’s condition, Apparition was out of the question and their only option had been flagging down a Muggle taxi. The car ride through London had been agony for Harry and Draco, who had picked up all sorts of potions and healing salves at the apothecary before their departure, had, almost immediately plied him with a decent dose of a strong Pain-Numbing Elixir.

Once it had kicked in, he’d half carried half dragged Harry upstairs and made sure that he was comfortable in his bed.

Lying on his front was impossible in Harry’s current state; it made him feel like someone was crushing his chest, and lying flat also didn’t work as it made breathing nearly impossible — sitting upright propped up against several pillows was his only option.

That, of course, resulted in his bruised and battered buttocks protesting heavily but apart from standing up, there really wasn’t any other option.

Infuriatingly, Harry was still refusing to take a dose of Skele-Gro and Draco had very nearly lost it at the hospital and threatened to pinch Harry’s nose until he opened his mouth, desperate to breathe.

Ron had managed to talk him out of steeping this low and had assured him that Harry would come around, eventually. Draco wasn’t convinced and when Harry had eaten a mere three bites of his dinner before pushing the tray of food away and announcing that swallowing was a chore he couldn’t stomach, Draco had decided to resolve to sneaky Slytherin tactics to ensure Harry would sleep through the night.

Stretching once more, Draco pushed the door to Harry’s bedroom open and walked inside.

He found Harry attempting to get out of bed and immediately strode over to stop him from doing so.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To the loo, Draco, I need to piss. Or do I need to ask for permission first?”

“Crude,” Draco said.

He just about managed to bite back the snarky remark that was on the tip of his tongue.

“Let me help.”

Harry grumbled, clearly frustrated.

“I am capable of taking a leak without your help, Malfoy.”

Draco took a deep breath and reminded himself to remain calm.

“I know, let me help you to the bathroom.”

“Can’t stop you anyway.”

Draco chuckled.

“Too right you are, Potter.”

He wound his arm around Harry’s waist and helped him to his feet.

Harry heavily leant on him and trying his best not to struggle under his weight, Draco led him over to the en-suite bathroom. He pushed the door open, turned the light on and motioned for Harry to continue without help. He was only mildly surprised when Harry warily eyed the short distance between the door and the toilet seat and didn’t budge.

“Don’t make me ask for it.”

Harry mumbled the words, averting his eyes in mild embarrassment.

Draco suppressed the desire to chuckle and the need to taunt him and brushing his lips against Harry’s cheek, he gave him a soft kiss.

“I won’t.”

He whispered his promise and tightening his hold on Harry, he slowly guided him towards the toilet and lifted the lid up.

“Need me to hold it for you, Sir?” he asked cheekily.

Harry fixed him with a withering death glare and winking at him, Draco swiftly made his escape before Harry decided to utilise corporal punishment.

He knew that Harry would remember his cheek and would, undoubtedly find a way to repay him for his sass but, if Draco was honest, he was rather looking forward to that. He wasn’t quite sure what knowingly baiting Harry in the hope it might result in a punishment of some kind said about him but he wasn’t much in the mood to analyse.

Instead, he made his way back into the bedroom and used the opportunity to fluff up Harry’s pillows.

Unless he succeeded with his plan, he doubted Harry would sleep much tonight.

The Pain-Numbing Elixir reacted rather violently with Dreamless Sleep so giving Harry a sleeping potion was entirely out of the question.

Still, Draco had a little bit of hope left that he’d manage to further elevate Harry’s pain levels and help him get some rest. It would most certainly aid his recovery and that was all Draco really wanted.

Hearing the toilet flush, Draco made his way back into the bathroom and bit his lip when he found Harry attempting to check out his bruised behind in the large mirror above the sink.

“Even with all those contusions all over your arse, you’re still hot, you know,” he teased.

Harry turned his head to glower at him and Draco boldly walked up to him, cupped his cheeks between his hands and kissed him sweetly.

“Let me kiss it all better.”

He murmured his offer against Harry’s lips and without waiting for permission, he moved to stand behind him and gracefully sank to his knees. There, he pulled Harry’s boxer briefs further down, let his fingertips ghost over the bruised skin, then nuzzled it gently, softly breathing over it.

Harry let out a low whimper and braced himself on the sink. Draco wasn’t sure whether it was excitement or pain that had evoked the reaction in Harry but so long as he didn’t stop him, he fully intended to cover Harry’s buttocks with a million tiny kisses.

He took his time and starting just above Harry’s tailbone, Draco carefully placed a series of small kisses all over the bruised skin. He splayed his fingers across the side of Harry’s thigh, squeezing ever so gently and was pleased when Harry breathed shakily and relaxed.

A low moan escaped past his lips and since it didn’t sound like he was in pain, Draco continued. He first covered Harry’s left buttock with plenty of kisses, then moved on to do the same to his right buttock, teasing, lips gliding smoothly and effortlessly over the warm and discoloured skin.

Harry’s breathing grew steadily laboured but he held perfectly still and Draco planted a trail of tiny kisses along the crack between Harry’s buttocks, first on the left, then on the right. He felt tempted to push them apart and lick at Harry’s hole but knew better than to be so bold or turn things sexual. His desire lingered low in his groin and he was sure that Harry would enjoy a bit of rimming but he decided to save that treat until he was ready.

Harry gasped.

“Draco.”

“Hm.”

Draco hummed against the taut skin of Harry’s arse.

He trailed his fingertips over the angry bruises and knowing that they would look even worse come morning, he wandlessly summoned the jar of healing paste from the bag of magical remedies he’d brought along from the hospital. He unscrewed the lid, dipped his fingers into the thick paste and scrunching up his nose at the somewhat pungent smell, he slowly but deliberately slathered Harry’s arse with it, coating it with a fine and even layer of salve to aid healing.

Harry strained to take a deep breath, wriggled a little but in the end, he held still and allowed Draco to finish applying the paste. It took several minutes until Draco was happy with the result and sitting back on his haunches, he screwed the lid back onto the jar, then slowly got up and back onto his feet.

He washed his hands with warm water and when Harry whispered his name and he turned his head, he wasn’t surprised to find him pressed up against the side of his body, kissing him hard.

Draco parted his lips, welcomed Harry prodding tongue, and willingly surrendered, allowing Harry to claim him in a searing kiss that left them both breathless. Harry winced when he pulled away and grimaced.

“Bad idea.”

He huffed, looking rather put out.

Draco smiled and turning around he cupped Harry’s cheek and planted a gentle kiss on his slightly parted lips, then pulled away and leant against the marble bathroom sink.

“Does your chest need to be kissed better too, Sir?”

Harry whimpered.

“Merlin, don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t call me _that_. It makes me want to do things to you, naughty things, kinky things, unspeakable things.”

Draco smiled.

“Do them. When you feel better, you absolutely have my permission.”

Harry sighed.

“I’m sorry, Draco.”

Draco frowned.

“Whatever are you apologising for, Potter?”

“Ruining our first proper D/s weekend, I know you were looking forward to that experience.”

Draco shrugged.

“There’s always next weekend, or the weekend after that.”

“You aren’t disappointed?”

Draco chuckled.

“Should I be? I’ve always wanted to show you exactly how bossy I can be and let me tell you, Potter, you ain’t got nothing on me.”

Harry smiled and when he pressed his palm against Draco’s cheek, Draco tilted his head to gently lean into the touch.

“I already know that you’re a sassy brat, my little prince. I also know that you can hold your ground. I just happen to prefer when you give it all up for me.”

Draco hummed and fluttered his eyelashes. It drew a little chuckle from Harry and he promptly winced when his bruised ribs protested vehemently.

The face he pulled tugged at Draco’s heartstrings and remembering the phial in his jeans pocket, he reached for it and offered it to Harry.

“You can have a little more of the Pain-Numbing Elixir if you want,” he said, gently trailing his fingertips across Harry’s chest.

In response, Harry inhaled slowly and his eyelids fluttered a little as he relished in the soft touch.

“Yes, please,” he whispered and accepting the phial, he uncorked it.

Draco watched as Harry wrapped his lips around the neck of the small bottle, tipped his head back and swallowed its contents down without the slightest bit of hesitation.

A moment later, he coughed and spluttered, groaned, and twisted his face in disgust.

“What the fuck!”

He spat the words out, looking at Draco with a murderous expression.

“What was that?”

Harry demanded to know what he’d just swallowed, clutching his fingers tightly around the now empty phial.

Draco shrugged but wisely took several steps back, just in case.

“Skele-Gro.”

“You tricked me, you fucking tricked me.”

“Slytherin prerogative.”

“Unbelievable.”

Harry shook his head and Draco carefully ventured a little closer again but kept a little bit of distance.

“Are you mad?” he asked.

“No.”

Harry shook his head, then started laughing.

“Bloody deviant.”

“You say the sweetest things,” Draco said with a grin.

“Would you like me to help you back to bed? I could spend a bit of time peppering your chest with a whole lot of kisses until the Skele-Gro kicks in.”

“I’d rather you gave me a blowjob but I’m in no fit state to get hard.”

“Give it till Sunday, I’ll make it up to you then, promise.”

Draco smiled and offering Harry his arm, he first pulled his boxer briefs back into place, then gently led him back into the bedroom and helped him climb into the bed. As he pulled the blanket up and tugged it around Harry, who relaxed back against the freshly fluffed up pillows, he mentally patted his own shoulder.

He’d been rather worried that the sharp strong smell of the potion would rouse Harry’s suspicion but, and Draco felt proud of his achievement, he’d clearly managed to sufficiently distract Harry before tricking him into swallowing the Skele-Gro, he’d been refusing to take all afternoon.

“You better keep that promise, you know,” Harry said once Draco had finished and seated himself on the edge of the bed.

“Which one?”

“The blowjob.”

“I will, I enjoy it as much as you do.”

“Do you now?”

Draco chuckled and winked in response. He climbed onto the bed and gently straddling Harry’s thighs, he leant forward and dropped a butterfly kiss onto Harry’s chest.

“I’ll just start with a bunch of kisses now, get you all excited for Sunday,” he whispered, breathing hotly against Harry’s skin.

Harry’s hand found its way to the back of his head and his fingers twisted themselves into his hair. He didn’t pull and he didn’t tighten his hold, but feeling his hand rest there, possessively holding on to him; well, it sent a shiver down Draco’s spine and he let out a low moan, pressing his slightly parted lips against the warm skin of Harry’s chest. He dropped a few more sweet kisses, then looked at Harry from under lowered lashes.

“At your service, my liege,” he exhaled.

The low growl that escaped Harry’s throat surged right through him and pooled low in his groin, setting it on fire.

So, they wouldn’t be able to play properly during the weekend, but that didn’t stop him from showing Harry a little bit of his submissive side, of giving him the one gift he treasured so very much.

* * *

* * *

Harry woke to the rousing scent of freshly brewed strong coffee, weakly sat up — apparently, he’d slipped into an almost horizontal position at some point during the night — and pushing his pillows back against the headboard, he leant into them and sighed.

“You, my love, are too good to be true,” he said softly and smiling at Draco, he reached for his glasses — he was pleased to note that his ribcage didn’t hurt quite as much anymore — and put them on.

Draco chuckled.

“I absolutely am. You better remember that I don’t serve just anyone.”

“I’d be highly offended if you did, you’re mine.”

Harry let his gaze sweep over Draco, pleased to note the visible tremor that went through him at hearing the possessive undertone in his voice.

Draco parted his lips, let out a soft but audible breath, then pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and bit it. His cheeks flushed a little and Harry smiled.

He beckoned Draco closer and patted his thighs, allowing him to set the breakfast bed tray with its foldable legs, he’d brought up with him, down.

“This looks delicious,” Harry said, hungrily eying the plate of crispy toast, fried bacon strips and scrambled eggs. He instinctively reached for the coffee but Draco handed him a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice instead.

“In the spirit of full disclosure, I will confess that I’ve laced it with a bone-strengthening potion.”

Harry smirked.

“Not feeling very Slytherin this morning, are we?”

“Thought I’d give you a break. I can’t promise it’ll stay that way, though. It really all depends on how obedient you are.”

Harry accepted the offered glass of orange juice and took a large sip.

The acidic but sweet taste completely disguised the taste of the potion, something Harry was eternally grateful for.

Yesterday’s Skele-Gro had left a bitter taste on his mouth and it had taken a whole slice of freshly-baked treacle tart with warm custard, which Draco — at his own insistence — had spoon-fed him, for it to finally disappear.

“How obedient _I_ am?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, thoroughly amused at Draco’s choice of words.

He gave Draco a steady intent look, silently challenging him and although he held his piercing gaze for the longest time, he did eventually lower his head ever so slightly.

His cheeks flushed anew and Harry couldn’t help but smile some more.

He took great pleasure in those tiny unremitting acts of submission, brought to the surface with little to no effort.

A little prompt, a soft touch, a look; that was all it took. It was a continuous testament to how much of an impact he’d made on Draco.

“You know what I mean,” Draco said softly, nervously fiddling with the edge of the bedsheet.

It presently pooled at Harry’s waist, leaving his chest on display.

Harry doubted Draco minded much.

Still, he deliberately left him hanging, finishing half of his orange juice before he responded by gently placing his hand on top of Draco’s and effortlessly stilling his fingers. He then took his hand and squeezed lightly.

“Do I?” he teased.

Draco lifted his head and looked at him. He opened his mouth to say something but Harry silenced him with a finger across his lips before he had the chance to utter the first syllable of whatever he’d been about to say.

“I’ll be good for you, my little prince, just so long as you promise to return the favour.”

The words made Draco squirm a little but this time he did not avert his eyes.

“I promise, Sir.”

His answer didn’t especially surprise Harry but he liked it very much.

He trailed his fingertip over Draco’s lips, down to his chin and along the line of his jaw, then splayed his fingers across his cheek. Draco tilted his head, pushed into the touch and his eyelids fluttered. A small, content smile tugged on the corners of his mouth and he let out a soft sigh.

“Thank you for looking after me and ignoring my stubbornness. Thank you for putting your foot down and tirelessly taking care of me. I love you.”

Draco smiled.

“Eat your breakfast, Potter.”

Harry frowned and pretended to look hurt.

“What? I don’t get an _I love you_ back?”

Draco shook his head.

“Nutrition first, then you can have your reward.”

Harry chuckled.

“Damnit, Malfoy, you’d make a seriously good Dom, do you know that?” Harry said.

He finished the rest of his orange juice and set the empty glass down on the tray in front of him. He reached for a slice of toast, loaded it with some scrambled egg and took a large bite.

“If only that was something, I was remotely interested in. Alas, I am not.”

“Not alas but halleluiah, I’d be very sad without my sweet little prince submitting to me.”

Draco rolled his eyes and pulling his legs up onto the bed, he shuffled into a more comfortable position.

“Stop sweet-talking me and eat your breakfast, Potter. I plan to force you to have a shower after and then it’s more healing salve for you and your sexy behind along with plenty of rest.”

“I’m not dying, you know?”

“I know. Your friends have invited themselves over, they’ll be here this afternoon. You’ll need to be presentable then and that can only be achieved with a shower, a shave and some rest.”

“Who’s coming?”

“The usual crowd. Charlie, Ginny, Weasley and his wife. They are bringing your other mother; however, Weasley assured me that she won’t stay long which is good because otherwise, I’m going to suffer a heart attack. That woman terrifies me more than you brandishing a cat o' nine tails. Mouthy Reid is stopping by tomorrow; he’s bringing his pet.”

Harry laughed, though he wasn’t exactly sure what amused him the most. The way Draco talked about Ron or the fact that he had just compared Molly Weasley to a cat o' nine tails or the ridiculous name he’d coined for Caleb.

“You know, I just can’t get over how you have no problem calling Charlie and Ginny by their first names but when it comes to Ron, you absolutely refuse to do the same. As for Caleb, don’t let him hear that nickname, he’ll turn your arse black and blue and he hits a whole lot harder than I do.”

“He wouldn’t dare,” Draco scoffed, his eyes full of mischief. “That man doesn’t know the first thing about what it takes to get me to submit. He’s just not you. As for Weasley, seriously, don’t ruin a good thing. Truce or no truce, I still think he’s a weasel, but he’s also a decent guy.”

“Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend?” Harry asked, pausing mid taking another bite of his toast. “Please repeat. Did I really just hear you say that Ron is a decent guy? I think I may just have to show Ron this memory in a Pensieve.”

Draco smirked.

“Do it, Potter.

He leant forward and boldly placed his hand on top of Harry’s limp cock, squeezing ever so gently. “If you want your best mate watch you getting a hand job.”

“I thought we’d agreed that you’ll be good. I will remember this, you know.”

“Please do. Remember it all and then go all devious Dom on me. I want it. I’ll even beg for it.”

Harry chuckled.

“This time it won’t be a spanking you’ll be getting, my little prince, you enjoy those far too much. I’ll think of something else, something even more devilish. You may end up eating your words.”

Draco shrugged.

“Perhaps I will but I also know I’ll enjoy it.”

“Touché.”

* * *

 


	56. Red Chair Passion Play Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh the fun I had with this chapter.  
> Harry's dominance is always a pleasure to write, so is Draco's submission, his sass and his entertaining relationship with Caleb.
> 
> Ah Caleb, yes, he truly is a gem. I love him. I created a good character there. He's got backbone, a story, common sense, an endless supply of humour, wit, and sass and he's incredibly loyal to his friends. He truly is a good man and I'm glad Harry's got him for a friend and that Caleb is so supportive of their relationship and is never seriously offended by whatever outrageous thing Draco says.
> 
> As a writer, when you manage to pull something like this off, when you manage to create a such a strong character, you can't help but feel proud. If he wasn't a decent character, I wouldn't keep bringing him back to support the story. Yes, I'm crushing on my own character, I absolutely am. But who wouldn't? If only you knew what he looked like. Oh, I have the most delectable photo of him on my computer...
> 
> But let's stop talking about Caleb for a second and focus on Harry and Draco. Their relationship is definitely progressing and I loved everything about the creative process of putting this chapter together. There were some minor problems that required intervention and when K told me (in no uncertain terms) to rewrite an entire scene because it wasn't working, I spend about five minutes contemplating to hang up my boots and stop writing altogether but then I got my act together, deleted what had to be deleted and created all over again. I cannot thank my muse, my sanity and my best friend enough for the effort he's put into keeping me sane and grounded. It's an incredible rush.
> 
> I'm running late for a coffee date but this chapter needed to be posted before I'm leaving to romance a cute gal who supplies me with endless amounts of perfect coffee.
> 
> Love,  
> Selly x

* * *

“I need to change my outfit! This one’s no good!”

Draco abruptly turned on his heel and disappeared up the stairs.

Harry didn’t quite manage to suppress the urge to smirk. It wasn’t often that Draco got this flustered over something a simple as an outfit to wear on a night out — or if he did, it always happened when Harry wasn’t around to witness it happening — and it was downright endearing.

Granted, Harry much preferred it when he managed to throw Draco off balance because he was fucking with his mind, talking dirty and pushing all the right buttons. He also rather enjoyed making the one or other outrageous request and watching the way Draco reacted to it, how he processed it.

Tonight, however, Draco was losing his mind for an entirely different reason.

Caleb had invited them to a private play party at the club and while his invitation had explicitly stated _street legal_ as the outfit to arrive in, he’d also noted that guests were free to change into whatever outfit they were most comfortable in after signing in at the door and getting their ID cards.

It hadn’t taken Harry long to choose an outfit for the evening.

After a quick glance through his extensive wardrobe, he’d opted for a pair of black tailormade chinos, a ruby red button-up shirt, and a black waistcoat, which he’d intentionally left unbuttoned to give the ensemble an air of casualness.

His favourite dragonhide belt wound itself snuggly around his hips — he didn’t need it to hold his trousers up but he’d only recently commissioned the belt buckle, a silver dragon with two citrine gemstones, bright golden in colour, as eyes. Its magnificent spread wings extended to the left and right and Harry was rather excited about showing the new accessory off — the dragon also strongly reminded him of Draco, which made the whole outfit all the sweeter.

Draco, on the other hand, while excited about finally attending his first BDSM Party — he hadn’t talked about much else all week, including drowning himself in research and asking a whole lot of questions, all of which Harry had patiently answered — was close to having a meltdown about his clothes.

Since Harry had arrived at his flat and despite telling him that he looked perfect, he’d changed his outfit a whopping three times and at this stage, Harry could read him well enough to know that Draco was mere minutes away from refusing to attend the event altogether.

 _I’d take you naked wearing my collar and a leash if it didn’t make you uncomfortable_ , Harry mused and allowed himself a moment to fantasise about leading his precious naked little prince into the private function room at the club, proudly showing him off while Draco obediently crawled on his hands and knees beside him and kept his head submissively lowered.

Shaking his head and pushing the rather titillating images to the back of his mind, Harry followed Draco up the stairs and entered his bedroom.

As expected, he found Draco in front of his wardrobe, dragging one shirt after the other out and promptly dismissing it with an annoyed grumble or a troubled mutter that expressed his steadily increasing levels of irritation.

“Draco?”

Harry called out to him but received no answer.

He hadn’t really expected to get one.

Right now, the only thing Draco cared about was finding the perfect outfit and failing that he was bound to throw a hissy fit, something Harry hoped to be able to prevent. He walked across the room and placing his hand on top of Draco’s, he slipped his thumb underneath Draco’s shirt sleeve and easily found the pulse point on the inside of his wrist. He circled it gently with his thumb and applied just enough pressure to capture Draco’s attention.

Draco stilled and turned his head to look at him. His exasperation was clear as day and Harry calmly held his gaze.

He didn’t say a word — didn’t need to — but simply continued to caress the inside of Draco’s wrist, pressing the tip of his thumb against the pale flesh. He continued to rub slow, even circles over that precious pulse point and after a minute or so, Draco gradually began to relax.

His shoulders dropped a little and he inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly.

“I’ve nothing to wear.”

He whispered the words into his bedroom, looking thoroughly distressed.

Harry smiled softly and tugging Draco closer, he placed his free hand on his hip and squeezed it through his slim grey wool trousers.

“You have a whole wardrobe full of clothes that fit you like a glove, my love,” he reassured, his voice soft, gentle.

“And you look good no matter what you wear.”

Draco immediately opened his mouth to protest but Harry shushed him with a subtle shake of his head — this was all it ever took to silence Draco.

Of course, it didn’t always work but there were certain situations where Harry simply didn’t need to tell him to be quiet; right now, was one of those special moments. Harry’s hand left Draco’s hip and cupping his cheek, fingers splayed out over the high cheekbones, he pressed his thumb to Draco’s lips, gently parting them.

“My precious little prince, will you listen to me?” he asked, purposefully keeping his voice low with a husky undertone.

Draco blinked and nodded.

“Yes,” he said softly, followed by an utterly delectable mewling sound.

Harry smiled.

“Strip,” he ordered, his voice firm, unwavering, bold.

He knew Draco would recognise it for what it was. It was his dominant side coming out to play, the one that expected Draco to obey him and do what he’d told him to do.

It had the desired effect. Harry felt the tremor that surged through Draco and felt him breathe out against his thumb. His eyelids fluttered and he went completely lax, then slowly lifted his slightly shaking hands and began to unbutton his shirt.

Harry took a step back and watched patiently, thoroughly enjoying the show. He did rather like it when Draco took his clothes off for him. It always reminded him of the first time he’d done so, the evening that Shacklebolt had officially announced his promotion at an elaborate banquet which had ended with them both finally making love for the first time.

He still vividly remembered that night; it was extraordinarily special and he shivered at the memory of it all. Especially Draco’s bold move to cast _Incarcerous_ on him to one, stop him from leaving and two, get what he wanted.

Not allowing himself to fully descent into the memory of that night, Harry focused on the here and now.

Draco kept his eyes on him, shrugged the now unbuttoned shirt off his shoulders and carelessly discarded it onto the floor. He moved on to his trousers, first undoing the button, then made short work of the zipper before easing the fabric down his toned thighs and casually letting it glide to the ground as well. He elegantly stepped out of his abandoned trousers and hooked his thumbs into his boxer briefs.

“No.”

Harry stopped him at once with a firm command.

“Those stay.”

“OK.”

“That’s my good boy.”

Harry turned to face the large wardrobe and rummaged about for a few moments before handing Draco a pair of tight light grey skinny jeans and a plain white slim-fitting t-shirt that hugged his torso in all the right places without making him look overly camp.

Draco did not protest.

He mutely accepted the clothes and placing them on the bed, he first slipped into the pair of jeans, then pulled the t-shirt over his head and adjusted it. Harry nodded approvingly and offered him a dark grey dragonhide leather jacket, waiting for Draco to put his arms and hands through the sleeves. He adjusted the garment ever so slightly, then turned around to face Harry, who wordlessly draped a soft black cashmere scarf around his neck.

“My stunning little prince, you’ll be the most gorgeous man in the entire club, it’ll be a right pleasure showing you off,” Harry said and Draco’s cheeks instantly pinked a little.

He bit his bottom lip, most likely to stop himself from letting out a low moan and Harry beckoned him closer, cupped his left cheek and drew him in for a kiss that started slow enough but ended with Harry’s other hand firmly squeezing Draco’s hip and his tongue twisting and coiling itself around Draco’s, claiming his mouth and reminding him of who was in charge — not that Draco really needed to be reminded but Harry enjoyed it anyway.

When he pulled back, Draco’s eyes were dilated and almost black.

They’d glazed over and he was panting hard, swaying a little, clearly unsteady on his feet.

“Oh, how I’d love to put a collar and leash on you.”

Harry teased though teasing was all it was since he was sure that Draco would refuse to leave his flat with a collar fastened around his neck.

Or would he?

A flicker of hope sparked somewhere in the centre of Harry’s chest and spread through him, quietly exciting him.

Draco whimpered and his hand found Harry’s squeezing it firmly, almost as if he was silently begging to wear a collar and leash, begging for Harry to claim him, own him, to show everyone who Draco belonged to.

“My sweet little prince, I promise you’ll get your chance to sink to your knees and crawl for me, I won’t deny you or me that pleasure,” he smirked and Draco shuddered, swayed, and squeezed his hand tighter.

“That desperate already, huh?”

Draco nodded and promptly flushed a deep shade of crimson which was so utterly endearing that Harry pulled him into a fervent kiss, claiming his mouth all over again.

The kiss lasted several minutes and upon pulling away, Harry ran his fingers through Draco’s hair, then let his hand rest casually on his shoulder.

He removed his hand from Draco’s hip and slipping two fingers into the small pocket of his waistcoat, he pulled out a tiny satin box, which he first enlarged with a wandless, wordless spell, then offered to Draco, who hesitatingly accepted the unexpected gift.

“One last item to complete your outfit, if you want it, that is.”

Harry watched Draco dither for another minute but did not pressure him to hurry up. He could tell that Draco was nervously holding his breath while slowly undoing the clasp that kept the expensive gift box locked.

He lifted the lid to reveal a beautiful black leather collar, custom-made from a stunning combination of the finest Moccasin-grade bison skin with a decadently soft red bull hide interior. The surface was luxuriously smooth while the inside was light-weight with a satiny velvet feel. The steel O-ring at the front was thin, gleamed in the light and was entirely free from perceptible projections, lumps, or indentations.

Draco gasped and tightening his hold on the box, he let his fingertips glide over the collar, tracing the thick red threading before hooking his index finger into the O-ring. He shivered a little and looked at Harry with wide eyes.

“You had this made for me?”

“Yes, my little prince.”

Draco blinked several times, clearly moved. He swallowed hard and opened his mouth to say something but his words failed him.

“I—” he croaked.

Harry smiled.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes.”

Draco exhaled slowly. His low voice was barely audible and another shudder went through him.

“I didn’t have it especially made for this event but I had it made for you and I want you to have it, regardless of whether you decide to wear it tonight or not.”

“It’s beautiful.”

Harry chuckled, the sound a low rumble that reverberated around Draco’s bedroom.

“Well, you are beautiful.”

Draco blushed and pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, worrying it gently.

“It thrums with magic,” he said softly.

Harry nodded.

“It’s infused with magic, once I fasten the clasp it will only open when I release it with a spell or you use your safeword. Nobody but you and me will be able to remove it, which is exactly how it should be.”

Draco continued to run his fingers over the soft leather, then resolutely took the collar into his hand and placed the empty gift box on the bed behind him. He clasped his fingers around the light leather band and momentarily closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. Harry placed his own hand on top of Draco’s and squeezed gently.

“I want everyone at the party to know that you’re mine, that you belong to me if that’s all right with you. I’ve explained the rules to you but I want you to remember that no one will dare to touch you without your explicit consent but I want people to know that you’re owned, that you’re my precious little prince and that you sub only for me,” Harry said softly.

He reached into the other pocket of his waistcoat and produced a matching satin box, which he restored it to its original size — it was much smaller than the box he’d given to Draco — and undoing the clasp, he revealed a beautiful black leather bracelet with a small O-ring; it matched Draco’s collar perfectly.

“If you wear yours, I’ll wear mine.”

Draco looked back and forth between the bracelet and the collar.

“Are you going to put me on a leash?” he whispered, mild trepidation lacing his words and shining in his eyes.

“Do you want me to?” Harry asked.

Draco shook his head.

“Please, not in public. I’m not ready.”

“There you have your answer. It’s all your choice, Draco. I am not going to force you to wear your collar or a leash or both. I would never, you know that. Wearing my collar is an honour and you should want to wear it out of your own volition, otherwise, there’s really no point to it.”

Draco nodded.

“I know.”

Harry smiled.

“Good. Tell you what, regardless of what you decide, I’ll wear the leather bracelet for you tonight. I’m as much yours as you are mine,” he said and fastened it around his wrist, closing the clasp with deft fingers.

Draco stared at it for several minutes, then wordlessly offered him the collar.

“Please, Sir,” he murmured and lowered his gaze.

A little jolt of excitement travelled down Harry’s spine and his heart skipped a beat as his admiration for Draco increased tenfold.

He’d, of course, hoped that Draco would agree to wear the collar to the club but he hadn’t dared to get his hopes up too high lest Draco wasn’t ready to be this open about his inclination to submit. This was all still relatively new to Draco and Harry had no intention of pushing him so far past his comfort zone that he freaked and bolted.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

Draco nodded.

“Yes, Sir. I am sure.”

“Alright, then. Turn around,” Harry instructed softly and Draco obeyed.

Harry loosened the scarf, he’d casually draped around Draco’s neck earlier, and taking the collar into both hands, he gently folded it around his neck and carefully fastened the clasp at the back. As he did, Draco let out a small gasp of astonishment and Harry knew that he’d felt the wave of magic that had sealed the collar’s clasp shut.

* * *

* * *

Draco tentatively touched the front of the sealed collar with his fingertips. It was not too tight or too loose but fitted snuggly around his neck and he could still feel the magic thrum through it. It was so gentle that he couldn’t help but wonder whether he was imagining the sensation.

Another thing that utterly surprised him, and not for the first time, was the feeling of safety that flowed through him, almost as though Harry had infused the collar with a calming drought, which he knew to be nonsense but he liked the idea anyway. He relaxed and submitted to it. He couldn’t quite comprehend it but it felt like there was absolutely no point in worrying about anything; it wasn’t his place to do so.

 _Harry_ , he thought, _he’ll take care of it, he’ll look after me_.

The knowledge of that made him relax even further and slowly turning around, he shyly gazed at Harry from under lowered lashes. He didn’t quite know what it was but something about submitting to Harry made him bashful.

Ordinarily, he didn’t like feeling this way, didn’t like being powerless or weak but he failed to see how giving in to his desire to allow Harry to take control, to care for him, to dominate him, to look after him, was a sign of weakness or powerlessness.

If anything, it was the exact opposite.

Yes, Harry decided everything and he demanded obedience but he never pushed him beyond anything he knew he could take.

At this stage in their relationship, and Draco didn’t even feel ridiculous for thinking that, he trusted Harry with his life, absolutely and unequivocally.

“Perfect, you are perfect,” Harry said softly.

Draco felt a tremor surge through him, felt his knees buckle.

He didn’t want them to do that but he also didn’t know how to fight it; he didn’t want to fight it, couldn’t think of a single good reason as to why he should.

“My perfect little prince.”

Harry’s words washed over him and for a moment Draco’s vision went blurry. He rapidly blinked several times to help him focus and was glad when he felt Harry’s hand squeeze his shoulder.

The touch steadied him, grounded him.

Harry’s hand moved to his cheek, cupping it gently and Draco automatically tilted his head and pressed into the touch. He hummed softly, parted his lips slightly and wetted them with the very tip of his tongue. Harry ran his thumb over his lips and the touch made them tingle and pulse in the immediate aftermath.

Without thinking, Draco pressed a kiss to Harry’s thumb and breathed heavily when Harry moved his hand and hooked his finger into the O-ring at the front of his collar. He gave a little tug and Draco came willingly, moved closer.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” Harry asked.

A strange sort of sound echoed around the room; one Draco didn’t know how to describe accurately but he knew that he’d produced it, entirely involuntarily of course. He sighed softly and tried his best to focus on Harry though it wasn’t exactly the easiest thing to do. His legs still felt like jelly and Harry’s soft but commanding voice was wreaking havoc with him. He wondered whether they were about to be late for Caleb’s party but he couldn’t summon the will to ask or seriously care about it.

The only thing that seemed important right now was to answer Harry and the words were already on the tip of his tongue, eagerly waiting to fall from his lips.

“Yes, Sir. I’m yours.”

“My sweet little prince.”

Harry gave the O-ring another tug and Draco gasped.

A moment later, Harry’s lips claimed his own and he revelled in the sensations Harry could evoke in him with a mere kiss. Draco was by no means passive but he didn’t take charge of it either, made no attempt to control it or deepen it in any way.

Instead, he moved to compliment Harry’s mouth. His eyes fluttered closed and he allowed himself to feel rather than see. He focused on the sweet taste of Harry’s tongue tickling his own. The warm wetness sent shudder after shudder down his spine and it made him lean into the kiss, lean into Harry.

He wanted, no needed, nothing but Harry.

Right this moment, everything revolved around Harry and Draco didn’t want it any other way.

His knees continued to shake and even though Harry was steadying him, supporting him, holding on to him, Draco felt the unquenching desire to simply let himself go and he did. He gracefully sank to his knees in front of Harry and lifting his head, he slowly opened his eyes and stared, then swallowed hard.

“Sir.”

He whined, though why he didn’t know, and Harry’s fingers wound themselves into his hair, massaging his scalp, pressing, squeezing. He moaned softly and focused on that warm smile that tugged the corners of Harry’s mouth upward.

“My sweet little prince, I do so enjoy seeing you on your knees at my feet. Tell me, is there something you want, my love?”

 _You_ , Draco thought promptly but the word, simple as it was, stubbornly remained stuck in this throat.

He exhaled audibly, mildly frustrated about not being able to express himself clearly but Harry continued to press his fingertips into his scalp, continued to give him a gentle massage and Draco decided that answering Harry’s question really wasn’t all that important. He had the feeling that Harry already knew what he wanted, needed.

Harry was good at that, so very good. He was unashamedly devious and extremely apt at fucking with his mind but he could also read him like a book. He always read between the lines, too. Hardly anything ever slipped past him and it was yet another reason as to why Draco was more than willing to surrender, to give up control in favour of letting Harry take over.

It was thrilling, utterly thrilling.

Exhilarating.

Each time he submitted, each time he let Harry dominate him, he felt an incredible rush, a complete high. It was addictive beyond comparison and strangely enough, it felt like he’d finally found the missing piece, finally found the part of him that he’d never quite understood properly and that had always eluded him, at least to a degree.

And yet here he was, unashamedly kneeling in front of Harry, willingly submitting all of himself to the one man who could make him feel things he, a mere year ago, hadn’t thought to imagine in his wildest dreams.

Draco was vaguely aware of Harry cupping his chin, of gripping it firmly, and shutting and opening his eyes quickly, he tried to focus, tried to work out whether Harry had prompted him to answer the question or whether he’d said something else that had somehow slipped his attention.

Sometimes concentrating was such a chore, especially when he let it all go, gave it all up. He couldn’t find any discernible benefit in making a real effort to keep paying attention.

That was — or so he thought — Harry’s job.

He didn’t want it, he simply wanted to float.

“That collar really does make you very submissive, doesn’t it?”

Harry’s warm chuckle cascaded over him. It seeped right into him and flowed through his veins, spreading further and further, and igniting something fierce inside of him. He could tell that Harry was teasing him, baiting him, and normally he hated it when people treated him like that. Harry, though, Harry was different and he didn’t tease to mock but because he enjoyed twisting Draco’s mind and Draco thoroughly relished in letting him.

“I should make you wear this collar all the time. You’d be so putty in my hand, wouldn’t you, my little prince? Just like you’re now; sweet and submissive. Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me right now?

 _No, but I’m sure you’ll tell me_ , Draco thought but the sassy remark did not make it past his lips. The temptation was there but it wasn’t strong enough for him to succumb to it. He could easily ignore it and when Harry tugged on his collar and applied a bit of pressure to the back of his head, Draco instantly abandoned all ideas about being cheeky. He simply let Harry move his head, let him press his face into his groin.

Draco closed his eyes.

He could feel Harry’s hardness press against his cheek, even through the fabric. Harry was hard because he’d consented to wear a collar to the club. He was hard because he liked the way Draco behaved when he wore it and because seeing him on his knees gave him a kick. Draco let out a low moan and turning his head slightly, he mouthed at Harry’s cock, kissed it through his chinos, then pressed his cheek against it and rubbed gently, slowly. He let out a low moan, knowing it would send titillating vibrations down the length of Harry’s hard shaft and possibly even up through his spine and straight into his brain.

“Please, Sir.”

He whispered his plea and tilting his head up, he blinked and looked at Harry from under lowered lashes.

“Please what?” Harry pressed.

“Let me take care of that for you.”

Harry chuckled.

“Oh, you absolutely will be taking care of it for me, my little prince. You are, after all, the reason for it. I couldn’t possibly go out like this.”

 _You are the reason I’m hard_ , Draco thought and briefly considered palming himself through his skinny jeans.

He dismissed the idea almost instantly but couldn’t help wonder whether an attempt to pleasure himself would result in a punishment.

Since he wasn’t particularly looking forward to attending a party with sore buttocks, he decided against finding out.

“Will you be my good little prince and suck me off before we go to the party?”

“Yes, Sir.”

In another lifetime Draco absolutely would have responded with something like _if you return the favour_ but he knew that he wouldn’t be uttering those words any time soon.

Goading Harry into dishing out punishment, that was more of a funishment than an actual form of discipline, was one thing. Ruining an evening of fun was another. Besides, following Harry’s orders usually resulted in intense, prolonged pleasure and Draco wasn’t stupid enough to jeopardise that; patience always paid off. He’d learnt that lesson a while ago. It had been a hard pill to swallow and he’d gone nearly a month without an orgasm in the process but he had learnt and he remembered.

“Go on then.”

Harry encouraged him, shifting to spread his legs a little and stand more comfortably.

He made no effort to undo his trousers and letting his hands slide up the inside of Harry’s thighs and over his thick hard cock, Draco undid the belt, popped the button, and dragged the zipper down. He kept his eyes locked on Harry and slowly pulling his dark chinos down to his midthigh, he hooked his index fingers into the pair of black boxer briefs, Harry was wearing and dragged those down too.

Harry’s cock sprang free and Draco shuffled and pressed his face against the pulsing hot flesh. He momentarily closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, savouring the musky scent of pure arousal and sex. It made his own cock twitch and it made him heady but Draco firmly ignored both sensations.

“ _Ngh_ , I can’t wait to taste you, Sir.”

He whispered the words and looking up at Harry, he was pleased to find him staring down at him, lips slightly parted and eyes dark with lust.

Pulling back just a little, Draco slowly let his eyes sweep over Harry’s cock, over the head, down the shaft and his balls, which were tight and slightly drawn up, a sure-fire tell-tale of how aroused Harry was and it spurred Draco on. He nuzzled the head, pressed a lingering kiss to it, then flicked the tip of his tongue over it.

Harry let out a shaky breath that bordered on a moan and taking that as encouragement, Draco continued. He let his mouth fill with as much saliva as possible and wrapping his lips around the head, he sucked it into his mouth and gently swirled his tongue around it.

He drew away again, breathed hotly over the now wet skin and only barely managed to suppress a smirk when Harry moaned, clearly enjoying the sensations. He didn’t grab the back of his head or force Draco to take him deep and made no attempt to fuck his mouth so Draco continued at his own pace. He kissed along the shaft, licked it all the way to the base and fondled Harry’s balls, massaging them gently, squeezing lightly and eventually tilting his head to plant wet sloppy kisses all over them.

Harry moaned, low and unrestrained and Draco hummed, sending pleasant vibrations through his prick, making it twitch.

“Yes, that’s it, you’re so good at this, my sweet little prince,” Harry praised.

Draco felt his cheeks heat at the compliment, yet didn’t let that distract him. He was determined to give Harry a blowjob that would make him go weak at the knees, one that left him feeling much the same way Draco felt, when Harry ordered him around, commanded that he did something or other.

He emptied his mind of all unimportant thoughts, dismissed anything that did not pertain to the task at hand and got to work.

He began with swirling his tongue around the head of Harry’s thick, hard cock. It was extremely sensitive and Harry responded well to the attention.

He let out a low groan.

Next, Draco teased that little V-shape under the cock head, using his tongue to play with it. He alternated between that and sucking and swirling and kissing and licking and only when Harry let out a much louder and more insistent groan, did he swallow as much of his cock as he possibly could.

In response, Harry wound his fingers tightly into his hair and forced him to take a little more, forced him to float somewhere between the sweet feeling of having his mouth full of Harry’s divine cock and the rather uncomfortable sensation of wanting but not needing to gag.

Draco breathed through his nose and looked up at Harry, pleading for him to let go. Harry ignored him for another few seconds, then released him slowly. Draco sucked a little, then relaxed when Harry moved his hips and thrust into him. He repeated the action several times and Draco instinctively splayed the fingers of his hands out over the warm skin of Harry’s thighs.

He closed his eyes again, moaned around Harry’s cock and sucked in time with his thrusts, letting his agile tongue nimbly provide Harry with the maximum amount of pleasure. He loved the feeling of Harry’s cock sliding in and out of his mouth, of not being able to control how deep it went and how long he stayed sheathed.

It was a steady reminder of the fact that Harry was in charge, that he made the rules and Draco didn’t bother to attempt to change anything about it. He merely complimented Harry’s thrusts with his lips and tongue, with plenty of saliva and suction and with a fist wrapped around the base of Harry’s cock and long deft fingers that rubbed, massaged, stroked, and gently squeezed his sensitive balls.

Harry’s breathing was erratic and laboured. He stopped focusing on setting an even rhythm, stopped pushing quite as deep and groaned when Draco continued to work his magic. He used absolutely every trick in the book to drive Harry right to the edge, then settled on sucking and swirling his tongue around the head, teasing all the erogenous parts that when stimulated, created all sorts of delicious responses. Harry groaned, repeatedly, wound his fingers tightly into his hair and encouraged him to keep going, to make him come.

Draco did not disappoint and less than a few minutes later he delivered, pushing Harry over the edge and straight into a forceful orgasm, that tore through him, causing him to sway a little. Draco continued to suck and when Harry’s warm come filled his mouth, he swallowed eagerly, taking absolute pleasure in the salty but also somewhat sweet taste that was so uniquely Harry. He feasted on every single drop and only pulled away when Harry loosened his hold, wordlessly indicating that he had enough.

He gave Harry a few moments to gather himself, then gently pulled his briefs and trousers up again, helping him to tuck his now spent cock back in and making himself presentable.

Miraculously, Harry’s trousers were entirely stain-free and Draco felt immensely proud of that achievement. He sat back on his haunches and let his hands rest on top of his thighs and looking up at Harry, he somehow managed to continue to ignore his own pressing arousal.

Harry took another moment to calm his laboured breathing, then hooked a single finger into the O-ring at the front of his collar and tugged.

“Get up,” he breathed, his voice husky and somewhat rough.

It sent a shudder of excitement down Draco’s spine and he obeyed, dutifully getting to his feet, and standing up. Harry drew him in for a slow, lazy kiss, then cupped his cheek and smiled warmly.

“Ready to go, my love?” he asked and Draco merely nodded.

His jeans were uncomfortably tight around his crotch but he had the distinct feeling that mentioning his own rather firm predicament would result in a stern talking to.

No, patience would be worth it in the end, he was sure of it.

* * *

* * *

Harry idly sipped on his cherry-infused something-or-other non-alcoholic drink concoction, apparently also known as a mocktail or so he’d learnt tonight, and half-heartedly silently cursed Caleb for throwing a party at which liquor was a hard limit.

His drink was too sweet, all the drinks were, and he rather craved a glass of Scotch or even just a pint of fresh draught beer but rules were rules. Besides, alcohol wasn’t something that belonged to a play party, private or not, and tonight’s event was more than just a friendly gathering of like-minded friends.  
  
Caleb had organised several rather sizzling scenes to keep everyone entertained throughout the evening and people were, of course, free to take to the play space and indulge in some kinky fun, providing that it didn’t interfere with the program and they informed one of the dungeon monitors first. Private rooms were, of course, also available, but doors always had to remain open to allow the club’s security staff to check in and it was a requirement to fasten information sheets with details pertaining to the scene in progress to the door of each individual private room.

Surprisingly, Draco had been more than willing to mingle and wander about the room by himself and Harry hadn’t stopped him from doing so. He did occasionally let his eyes dart around to seek Draco out but other than that he’d spent most of the evening perched on a barstool next to Caleb either listening to or participating in various conversations about a wide array of topics.

Every now and then, Draco returned to his side, lingered for a while to toy with is hand or lace their fingers together, then disappeared again, fresh drink in hand.

The evening had, of course, started with a heated verbal sparring match between Caleb and Draco which had left Harry laughing so hard that tears had streamed down his face.

Upon their arrival, Caleb had, naturally, remarked that Draco was a very pretty piece of arm candy. It had been a throwaway comment but Draco hadn’t taken particularly kindly to Caleb’s good-natured teasing.

His stubborn unwillingness to show Caleb any kind of respect whatsoever had turned into a staring match of epic proportions and had ended with Caleb stating that Draco didn’t have a submissive bone in his body — Harry, although laughing hard at the time, had taken it as a compliment and a testament to just how strong his and Draco’s emotional bond really was. Draco subbed for him and only him and he couldn’t imagine Draco ever giving Caleb an inch. Thankfully, they were good friends and since Caleb liked Draco a lot, he let him get away with murder.

 _Not for you, I don’t_ , Draco had flippantly retorted to Caleb’s taunt about his lack of submissiveness.

At that point, Harry had snorted into his drink and from there on things had gone downhill fast with them both lovingly firing insults at one another — in a way it had reminded Harry of their time at Hogwarts and how he and Draco had always squabbled with each other.

Caleb and Draco were completely capable of having a civilised adult conversation but for inexplicable reasons, they preferred not to and Harry delighted in the fact that one of his closest friends and the person he’d come to love most in this world got on like a house on fire.

Draco’s unbelievable sass drew Caleb right in, just like a moth could not resist the temptation of flying towards the light, even though it knew it would end up burning in the heat. Draco, on the other hand, merely enjoyed spending the evening in the company of someone who had no prejudice about him because of his past and thought he was amusing. Watching him relax, blossom and be himself made Harry’s heart flutter — he simply couldn’t get enough of watching Draco thrive in a world he’d embraced so wholeheartedly and rather fearlessly.

Suddenly aware that he’d completely zoned out of the conversation and hadn’t heard a word Caleb had said to him — the last topic he remembered them discussing was the Shibari event next month — Harry snapped back into the present and took a sip from his drink, frowned at the lingering excessively sweet aftertaste and once again wished for something less likely to give him a sugar hangover in the morning. He wasn’t sure whether that was even a thing but he didn’t much care to investigate.

He turned his head sideways and glanced at Caleb, who shot him a bemused look and rolled his eyes when Harry slid off his barstool and mouthed an apology.

“Oh, come off it, Potter, I’m the last person to get offended over you being besotted with your man, you deserve it, every bloody minute of it.”

Caleb smiled.

“Besides, I’m taking full credit for the fact that the two of you are together in the first place.”

Harry chuckled.

“Did I miss something? When did you play matchmaker?”

“Oh, only that time you barged into my house in the middle of the night to tell me that you’d kissed him and every other time you lost your shit over being a miserable indecisive sod and not telling him that kinky is your middle name.”

This time, it was Harry’s turn to roll his eyes. He was about to tell Caleb to stuff it when he started to sing, intentionally mocking him.

“ _Kinky love, I need you so bad, I need you, kinky love, kinky you’re all that I’ve been thinking of_.”

Harry set his drink down on the bar and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Having fun, Reid?”

“Absolutely, so much, you can’t even begin to imagine.”

“I’m glad to be the cause of your entertainment, Reid, you insufferable bugger. Now, if you excuse me, I’m going to go find Draco.”

“And drag him away for some kinky love? He’s over there, by the way, watching that scene.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know…”

Harry chuckled. He didn’t think he’d ever object to dragging Draco away for some kinky love.

His eyes followed Caleb’s finger and he spotted Draco standing behind a black leather sofa, hands casually shoved into the pockets of his skinny jeans. From his current position, Harry could only see a small part of the play space and had, therefore, no idea what was going on, but he could tell that Draco had an unobstructed view of whatever scene was going on.

Harry could also tell that Draco appeared interested in what was happening on and intrigued, he left Caleb by the bar and walked across the room, slowly moving closer to Draco.

In no rush to approach him, Harry deliberately stopped a couple of feet away and very reluctantly dragged his eyes off Draco’s stunning figure. He surveyed the scene currently in progress in the centre of the play space and smirked.

He wasn’t even remotely surprised that it had captured Draco’s interest. It was a true classic, a gem of the kink world.

Most people — even those who just occasionally indulged in a little bit of kink to spice up their sex lives — had probably at some point in their lives fantasised about getting it on with a hot teacher.

Admittedly, given their tumultuous time at school, Harry hadn’t expected that a Teacher/student roleplay might capture Draco’s interest.

Then again, the Teacher’s wooden ruler did somewhat resemble that spatula Draco liked so very much…

Harry smirked and allowed himself a moment to indulge in the sweet fantasy of bending Draco over an old-fashioned school desk in a deserted classroom, perhaps even tying him to it before vanishing his clothes, leaving him with only his Slytherin tie, and teasing him until he begged for mercy.

Feeling just a little devious, Harry pulled himself out of cloud cuckoo land before he sank too deep. Instead, he walked up to Draco and standing behind him, he sneaked one arm around his waist and pressed his mouth to Draco’s ear.

“Missed me?”

Draco hummed in response and relaxed into his embrace straight away.

“Tell me, Draco Malfoy, have you been a naughty boy?”

Harry teased, deliberately keeping his voice low and husky.

“Are you watching that and fantasising about getting disciplined by a hot Teacher?”

Draco shuddered and twisted his head to try and look at him but Harry was a little faster. He grabbed his chin and stopped him from turning is head.

“No. I want you to keep your eyes on that scene, don’t you dare look away.”

“Harry.”

Draco huffed his name helplessly.

He made no further attempt to turn his head or pull away.

Harry released his chin but tightened his hold on Draco and pulled him flush against his front, possessively holding on to him.

They stood like this for a while, both watching the scene slowly unfold in front of them, watching the Teacher casually lean back against her desk and perch herself on its very edge all while pointing her wooden ruler at a scared-looking student who fidgeted nervously, pulling at the sleeves of his school uniform — a long-sleeved button-up shirt, tie, and a short grey skirt and, of course, heels.

It was precisely that very twist, the fact that the male sub wore women’s clothing, that made Harry want to tease Draco. The last time he’d brought up cross-dressing, Draco had been mildly appalled but hadn’t dismissed the idea altogether and Harry couldn’t help but wonder whether there might come a time where he’d be able to talk Draco into trying it, perhaps easing him into the idea, starting slowly and gradually building up to a more intense scene.

“Do you like this?”

Harry breathed the innocent question into Draco’s ear.

He felt him shudder and he let out a low whine.

“’s not bad,” Draco mumbled.

Harry chuckled.

“Just not bad?” he pressed.

Draco remained silent and Harry wondered whether he was blushing yet — he usually did whenever he pushed Draco to give voice to his kinky fantasies.

Gently nibbling on Draco’s earlobe and breathing hot air all over it, he relished in the way that Draco squirmed in his embrace.

“Let’s see how far you let me push you,” Harry whispered.

“Take your hands out of your pockets.”

He was pleased to note that Draco obeyed him without the slightest bit of hesitation and let his arms dangle at his sides with the palms of his hands resting against the side of his thighs.

“Good boy,” Harry praised and laced his fingers through Draco’s, squeezing gently.

The scene in the play space had progressed to the Teacher running her ruler slowly up the student’s arm, then forcing it under his chin to make him look up. The Teacher held the student’s gaze for several moments, then lowered the ruler. She stepped closer, ran a single finger down the front of the student’s shirt before squeezing his cock, hidden underneath the grey skirt.

Harry mirrored the Teacher’s action and wasn’t at all surprised to find that Draco was hard.

“Do you know what I think, my little prince? I think you’re quite enjoying this, you rather like the idea of being disciplined by a Teacher, don’t you, my love?”

He rubbed his palm over the outline of Draco’s cock.

Draco let out a low whimper and let his head fall back against his shoulder.

Harry clicked his tongue and reprimanded him gently.

“I believe I said keep your eyes on that scene.”

He withdrew his hand from Draco’s cock, and let it rest just below Draco’s navel, his fingertips teasing the quivering skin beneath the tight shirt, Draco was wearing.

“Harry,” Draco said softly.

“Yes?”

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look and feel like? I’m hugging my boyfriend, of course.”

“ _Ngh_ , you’re not.”

“I’m not?”

Harry chuckled softly and sliding his hand up Draco’s front, he hooked a finger into the O-ring at the front of his collar. He tugged gently and Draco mewled. It was a soft sound and almost inaudible but Harry was close enough to hear it clearly. He gave the O-ring another tug.

“Mine,” he snarled right into Draco’s ear and promptly felt his knees buckle.

“Want to know a secret, my little prince? I’ve got a ruler just like that in my playroom. Stings just as nicely as a wooden spatula, if not better. You rather like those, don’t you?”

Draco huffed out a breath in response and squirmed again.

Harry turned his attention back to the scene.

The Teacher had meanwhile roughly grabbed the student, forced him to turn around, and shoved him over the desk, before exposing two very firm arse cheeks. She was running the ruler over said arse cheeks and even slipping it into the crack before suddenly bringing her hand down onto the right cheek, smacking it firmly. The student yelped and so did Draco, which prompted Harry to turn his attention back to teasing Draco.

“Do you know what I love about spanking your beautiful arse, my little prince?” he whispered.

“Besides turning it red and making it throb, that is,” he added, then paused.

“I just love the sound of my hand connecting with your arse. Or that wooden spatula. That _smack_ , what a wonderful sound, I want to hear it all the time, _smack, smack, smack_. You, however, my love, you love the sting of it, the way your skin warms and the way the pain spreads and then turns into pleasure, heightening your arousal. It makes your cock twitch so sweetly and when it’s _smack_ , after _smack_ , after _smack_ , you arch your back and twist and squirm. Your body begs me for more before you can even find the right words to express your desire.”

Draco’s knees buckled rather ominously and Harry reluctantly left the collar be and wrapped his arm around Draco’s waist again, then pushed him a little further.

“I bet getting your arse spanked is all you can think about right now. I bet you really want it, want to feel that sting, want to give in to the sensation of that sweet lingering hotness.”

“Harry, _please_.”

“Please, _what_? Please stop? Please spank me? Please fuck me? Please hurt me? What do you want? Or more importantly, what do you need?”

“Don’t— don’t— don’t stop.”

Harry chuckled.

He sucked Draco’s earlobe into his mouth and bit down on it, not hard enough to make Draco scream but hard enough to make him feel it.

Draco whimpered.

“Close your eyes and listen to me, my little prince.”

Draco’s eyes fluttered closed immediately and Harry promptly left him hanging for a whole minute.

“I remember now, we had this conversation before. You did always have a penchant for this; the idea of someone deviously defiling you in a classroom turns you on and believe me, Draco, I’d defile you so good, you know I would. We should really get you another set of Slytherin robes, brand new, specially tailored for you. I absolutely want to tear them off your back and bend you over the teacher’s desk and treat you like the filthy little student you’ll pretend to be for me. I want to gag you with your pretty silken Slytherin tie and spank that gorgeous arse of yours until it’s the same colour as my Auror robes…”

“Fuck, yes,” Draco whimpered.

Harry let go of his hand, cupped his cock through his jeans and squeezed hard, then rubbed it slowly, teasingly. He absolutely loved the fact that he was having his wicked way with Draco in the middle of a crowded room while they were watching a kinky spanking scene unfold in front of them.

“Of course, I’d keep you hanging on the edge, you wouldn’t come until you’re well and truly desperate for it but I think you know that. Until you’re begging me good and proper and certainly not before I’ve fucked your hole. Hard. Twice. I’d make you keep my come inside of you too, shan’t allow you to waste a single drop of it. I do seem to recall you rather enjoyed wearing a butt plug. Just imagine, my come inside of you, the plug keeping it in, keeping you open and ready for me to take you and then another spanking, this time with that ruler, harder than before, a little more pain, a longer sting, a delicious intense burn. I promise you; every single _smack_ will make that butt plug move inside of you, it’ll press against your prostate and rub it nicely, turning you into a wanton, boneless needy little thing. I’ll have the time of my life watching you come apart for me.”

Draco let out a delectable little moan, then inhaled sharply and held his breath for several moments.

“Please, Harry, please take me home, please,” he whispered, breathlessly.

Harry smirked.

“Aren’t you enjoying the party, my love?”

“Fuck, please, Harry, please, I need you to take me home now.”

“And then what?”

“Do what you just said— all of it— if you— if you want— I— I— consent. Just, _fuck_ , please.”

“A few dirty words are all it takes to turn you desperate, huh?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Draco admitted shamelessly and Harry pressed a kiss to his neck, just above his collar.

“And what shall I tell Caleb? He’ll want to know why we’re leaving early.”

“Tell him whatever you want.”

“Hm, can I tell him that you begged me to take you home to fuck your brains out?”

“ _Ngh_ , Harry, no.”

Harry laughed.

“You said to tell him whatever I want. How about that you’ve been a naughty student and that I need to teach you a proper lesson? Would that be okay?”

“Harry!”

Draco sounded positively indignant now, though Harry thought that most of it was just a show, he was putting on. He could tell that Draco knew he was only teasing.

“Fine. I’ll tell him you’re running a fever and need to be put over my knee, er, I mean to bed.”

Draco sighed.

“You are fucking filthy, Potter. Someone ought to wash your mouth out. _With soap_.”

“Such uncouth language, thoroughly unbecoming behaviour for a little prince, don’t you think?” Harry said. “You really do need that spanking, quite desperately so. My little prince needs a firm stinging reminder of how he should behave and talk.”

Harry moved to stand in front of Draco and leant close, as though he was about to plant a gentle kiss on Draco’s slightly parted lips but merely hovered an inch above them.

“One thing, you might want to remember, my little prince, is that the only one who’s ever going to get his mouth cleaned with soap is you, not me. So, if I were you, I’d pay attention to what I say while wearing that collar. It’s so frightfully easy to get yourself in trouble these days, just takes a few wrong words, really. Then again, if you want to try your hand at being a brat, go for it. I’ve no problem with taming you, I’m really rather good at it.”

Draco swallowed hard and blinked several times. He flushed bright red and cleared his throat several times.

“I’m— I’m sorry— Sir.”

He sounded raspy and his voice was barely louder than a faint whisper.

Harry smiled.

He did love fucking with Draco’s mind. It was one of his favourite pastimes to indulge in whenever they played together.

“You’re all right, this was just a warning. Now, do you still want to go home?”

Draco nodded, then shyly averted his eyes.

Harry laced their fingers together again, squeezed Draco’s hand gently and finally leant in for that kiss.

“Come on, we’ll say goodbye to Caleb.”

“He’ll know why we’re leaving; it doesn’t matter why you tell him; he’ll know.”

“Of course, he’ll know, he isn’t an imbecile. By the way, he’s taking credit for helping us to get together.”

Draco frowned.

“When I first met him, you already were my boyfriend.”

“Hm, yes, but before I was I may or may not have had a few meltdowns on his sofa.”

Draco smirked.

“Is that so?”

The cheeky glint in his eyes was positively concerning and Harry tried to counter it with a fierce glare, one that usually made Draco’s knees shake but remained unsuccessful. Harry suppressed a sigh; he’d inadvertently woken a beast.

“I think I owe the man a couple of drinks and a big thank you.”

Harry couldn’t help but snigger.

“Don’t, you’ll scar him for life. He isn’t used to you being nice to him.”

“Perfect, that makes it all the sweeter.”

Harry shook his head — the roguish Slytherin snake had well and truly come out to play and he was almost embarrassed to admit that he was looking forward to yet another Reid/Malfoy showdown. Those two were delightfully entertaining.

Draco grinned and Harry didn’t even attempt to resist when Draco dragged him across the room and over to the bar.

“Oi, Reid.”

He called out when he was two steps away from the man.

Caleb, who had been in the middle of a conversation, turned his head and raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Yes?”

“Harry kindly brought to my attention that you knocked some sense into him way back when we first started seeing each other,” Draco said.

“Er, yes,” Caleb responded, clearly unsure of where this conversation was going.

“Thanks for that, I owe you.”

Draco thrust his hand out for Caleb to shake — a move that was a blatant disregard of the sacred rules of Dominance and submission, especially considering their current venue. Caleb identified as a Dominant, he was older and he was the host of the party. Friends or no friends, it was up to him to initiate a handshake. A collared and owned submissive most definitely did not have the right to do so — Harry had gone over the rules with Draco prior to the party and even though he was in violation of one of them, Harry had no intention to try and intervene. He wanted to see how this was going to play out.

Caleb’s face was a picture and Harry wanted to savour the moment forever. He looked flabbergasted and for several seconds his eyes flickered between Draco’s outstretched hand, his collar, and his face. Then, he snapped back to reality and straightening up a little, he smiled warmly.

“You’re welcome, Draco.”

Miraculously, he accepted Draco’s offered hand and shook it, then tightened his hold and grinned.

“You know, Harry ought to train you better, you’re a bit of a brat. I’m sure you know the rules, don’t you?” he taunted, still firmly grasping Draco’s hand.

Draco made no move to withdraw his hand.

“Of course, I know the rules, Reid. Then again, we’ve already established that I don’t have a submissive bone in my body, not for you anyway.”

Caleb chuckled.

“Oh, to be a fly on the wall when Harry tries to get you to submit.”

Draco gently tugged on his hand and Caleb let it go. Harry felt more than saw his hand seek out his own and laced their fingers together. _The irony of it all_ , he thought and suppressed a chuckle.

“He doesn’t have to try, Reid, I’m putty in his hands.”

Harry smirked.

He let go of Draco’s hand and sneaking it around his waist instead, he pulled him closer until they were touching from thigh to hip to shoulder. Draco tilted his head and somewhat awkwardly rested it on his shoulder, which prompted Harry to turn a little and drop a soft kiss onto the top of his head.

At the same time, he squeezed Draco’s hip.

“Get out you two, I know you didn’t come over here to thank me for listening to my friend’s incessant whining,” Caleb said, then grinned.

“Christ, you’re fucking perfect together.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, Reid,” Draco unexpectedly complimented Caleb which prompted Caleb to laugh, reach out and good-naturedly pat Draco’s shoulder. “Now, if you excuse, I really must demand that Harry take me hope. We’ve had a rather turbulent few years at school and we should really talk about what went wrong.”

Harry laughed.

“That’s one way of putting it,” he smirked. “Come on, you, no need to demand anything, I’ll gladly take you home.”

Caleb looked thoroughly bemused.

“Enjoy,” he said.

* * *

 


	57. Love On The Eurostar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter, for a change.
> 
> It contains a few lines of French dialogue. You can find the translation of the dialogue in the end notes. I'm going to be quite honest, my French is very rusty ( _'barely existent' is a much better description_ ) which is why I had to do a lot of research to add these phrases into the chapter.
> 
> There are bound to be some mistakes, I accept that. If you speak French and you spot an error, please do cut my some slack.
> 
> I don't especially want to get a bunch of comments with suggestions on how to correct it, especially because in writing it always comes across harsher than you intend it to sound. If you have any advice, all I ask is that you're polite about it.
> 
> As I said, I'm not fluent in French ( _never really was because I was never fully committed to learning it due to lack of interest and crap teachers_ ) but that's not going to stop me from trying to experiment with languages in my writing and doing as much research as I can to try and get it right. I would have used Chinese, which I actually speak fluently, but it didn't seem to make much sense for Harry and Draco to speak Chinese to each other and with a French taxi driver. *silly grin* Maybe in another story.
> 
> Enjoy.
> 
> Love,  
> Selly

* * *

“A Portkey would have been so much faster.”

Draco shook his head again.

Ever since they’d climbed on board the Eurostar at St Pancras International, he’d been doing that on and off, along with making various comments about how magical transport was so much faster than the Muggles’ way of getting around.

After a brief wait in the Business Premier departure lounge, they’d now found their seats in one of the premier coaches and the train was already moving out of the station, steadily gathering speed, heading for its destination over on the mainland.

Harry adjusted the backrest of his seat. He pushed it back a little, then comfortably stretched his legs out in front of him.

“I know that a Portkey would have been faster.”

He spoke with an air of complete nonchalance, one he knew would drive Draco crazy but Harry was entirely unfazed about Draco’s complaints which weren’t objections at all — this was just Draco being Draco, inquisitive to a fault, wanting to know everything all at once always.

Harry knew that Draco did not mind spending the afternoon on a train to Paris.

If anything, Draco was still floating on cloud number nine — for more than one reason — and this was his way of distracting himself from firing one question after the other at Harry, who had outright and repeatedly told him that he wasn’t going to share any details about their trip with him other than that they were going to spend the weekend in Paris.

Draco had, of course, tried to gather as much information as possible and over the course of the past week he’d used nearly every trick in the book to get what he wanted — and Harry had enjoyed foiling every single one of his attempts. No matter what Draco had tried, it hadn’t gotten him anywhere.

Beyond the fact that the trip was a treat for Valentine’s Day, Harry hadn’t divulged a single thing — naturally, much to Draco’s steadily growing frustration.

Harry tried his hardest not to think about how pretty Draco had looked two nights ago as he’d knelt on the floor of what Harry now considered to be _their_ playroom. He didn’t quite succeed. The memory of that evening was too precious, too special.

Draco had been naked, sweaty, and the look of pure desire and desperation in his glazed over and mostly unfocused stormy silvery-grey eyes still made Harry’s heart flutter now. The saliva-soaked silk gag in his mouth had been a stunning accessory, one Harry intended to use more often. Draco had tried his best to articulate himself as he’d begged for his release after Harry had kept him on the brink of his orgasm for several hours but he hadn’t been very successful in getting his point across. Much to Harry’s delight, his inability to tell him what he wanted had only intensified Draco’s frustration and Harry had enjoyed every second of watching him fall apart at the seams.

He’d teased Draco’s sass and his curiosity right out of him and after he’d finally granted him permission to come, Draco had neither been in the mood nor in any fit state to ask any questions about their upcoming trip.

All he’d wanted had been for Harry to hold him as he sobbed quietly into the pillows, attempting to come down from his incredible high.

That, of course, hadn’t stopped Draco from continuing with his quest the day after they’d played to their heart’s content.

Though the mere mention of a silk gag shut him right up and Harry had taken to carrying one around with him, just in case. It made for some delightful power play, a thrilling little game that they both found quite entertaining.

Glancing out of the train window, Harry smirked.

He didn’t really want to push the memories of their playtime out of his head — the images were too good not to indulge in — but he also wasn’t especially looking forward to spending a two-hour train journey with a raging hard-on pressing against the confines of his dark blue tailormade chinos.

Then again, he was quite sure that he wouldn’t have to endure a train journey from hell. He doubted that, given the right incentive, Draco would refuse to give him a blowjob in the toilets.

“Do I even want to know what’s on your devious mind?” Draco asked.

Clearly, he’d caught the reflection of his devious expression in the window and turning to his head, Harry smiled.

“You,” he simply replied.

Draco rolled his eyes but Harry noticed the faint flush that instantly crept onto his face — he really found Draco’s reactions to his compliments, no matter how small the praise was, quite endearing. It was nice to know that his words had such a wonderful effect on the person he loved.

Feeling a bit sentimental, Harry reached across and taking Draco’s hand, he laced their fingers together, then pulled their intertwined hands into his lap. He shuffled in his seat and leaning over the armrest, he beckoned Draco a little closer, deliberately moving into Draco’s personal space.

A small tremor surged through Draco and when Harry cupped his cheek, he gasped.

“There are people here.”

Draco’s protests were weak and Harry could tell that he wasn’t really objecting

“So? Does that mean I can’t kiss my boyfriend?”

Draco’s bottom lip quivered a little — he obviously felt tempted to gnaw at it — and Harry promptly distracted him by stroking his thumb across Draco’s cheek, relishing in the soft feel of Draco’s pale skin beneath his calloused fingertip. He moved just that little bit closer and allowed his warm breath to ghost over Draco’s lips. There was less than an inch of space between their mouths and Harry simply lingered, hovered right there, and waited.

He couldn’t help but wonder whether Draco would lean in and steal a kiss or pull away and feeling somewhat curious, he slyly decided to test Draco’s patience only for Draco to surprise him completely.

“Please…”

It was more of a breathless whisper than an outright plea. It was so quiet that Harry would have missed it had he not been right there in front of Draco, occupying the space no other person had the right to occupy.

Draco was his.

“Please what?” Harry prompted.

“Please kiss me.”

Harry smiled.

He hadn’t expected Draco to ask him for a kiss but it thrilled him to no end that he had. That tiny act of submission, the sweet surrender; it melted his heart. It was meaningless in the eyes of anyone who didn’t understand the type of relationship they had but to Harry it meant the world and he could tell that the longer he and Draco engaged with the power dynamics of dominance and submission, the more Draco relished in those small, seemingly innocent, things he could do to enjoy a few moments of relinquishing control to Harry — even when they were in the middle of a large crowd.

“I wouldn’t deny you that pleasure for the world, my little prince.”

Harry leant a tiny bit closer and murmured the words against Draco’s lips, letting his own ghost over them as they formed the words.

Draco let out a tiny moan of anticipation and Harry finally went for the kill.

He pressed his slightly-parted mouth against Draco’s and kissed him softly, gently, unhurriedly, then nipped at Draco’s bottom lip and teased his top lip with the very tip of his tongue. It drew a shudder and a cat-like whine from Draco’s throat.

He let his hand slip from Draco’s cheek to the back of his head and toying with his silky-soft blond hair, he held him in place, teased a bit more and smiled into the kiss when he felt Draco grasp his hand tightly, a silent refusal to part company, a wordless plea for Harry to give him just a little more.

Harry indulged him, gradually deepened the kiss, moved more insistently but refrained from fully adding his tongue to the mix.

Draco practically melted against him and Harry enjoyed every second of his silent surrender, the way he only ever complimented every one of Harry’s moves but never tried to take charge or change direction.

The kiss latest for several minutes and when Harry, albeit reluctantly, finally broke away Draco let out a tiny whimper in protest.

“I’m going to treat you like royalty this weekend, my little prince,” he whispered.

He moved the armrest that separated both their seats out of the way and allowed Draco to snuggle into his arms. Harry took his shoes off and shuffling so that he was leaning against the window, he pulled one leg up onto the seat, bend it at the knee and allowed Draco to shift around so that he sat between Harry’s now spread legs. He, too, kicked his shoes off, pulled both his legs up onto the seat and leant back against Harry’s chest. The back of his head rested right above Harry’s heart and when Draco looked up at him with an expression of complete contentment, his heart skipped a beat or two.

“You look like a cat who got the cream,” Harry teased.

“I did get the cream.”

“Oh?”

“Hm,” Draco nodded.

He didn’t elaborate any further and Harry didn’t ask him to.

They sat in comfortable silence for several minutes, lacing their fingers together, then pulling them apart again. Draco had started their silly game of together and apart and Harry had no intention of stopping it. He enjoyed those moments when Draco simply wanted a cuddle, when he craved human touch and comfort and closeness and when he didn’t give a care in the world as to who might see them be affectionate with each other while in public.

After a while, when Draco once again laced their fingers together, Harry resolutely held on tight which prompted Draco to tilted his head back and look up at him through his eyelashes.

“Do you want to know the real reason why I insisted on us taking the train?” Harry asked.

Draco nodded.

“A do-over for sixteen years ago, when you offered your hand and friendship and I rejected you.”

Draco closed his eyes.

He remained quiet for the longest time and as much as Harry wanted to ask him if he was OK, he kept his mouth firmly shut and allowed Draco to have his moment.

When Draco eventually opened his eyes — which shone brightly with unshed tears — and looked up at him, Harry couldn’t help but drown in those clear silvery-grey orbs.

“Harry—”

Draco’s voice sounded slightly broken — raspy even — and as though he should have but hadn’t cleared his throat and tried to swallow past the lump that had clearly taken up residence there instead.

“It’s been less than a year and I am utterly insane for even allowing my mind to go there but by Merlin and Circe and for the love of all four founding members of Hogwarts, if you’re planning to propose to me, tell me now because I _will_ have a heart attack if you spring it on me over dinner or atop the Eiffel Tower or whatever other sickeningly romantic things you’ve undoubtedly concocted because well you are a _Gryffindor_ and members of your house do insane things like that.”

Harry pressed his lips together to suppress the urge to smile but the low rumble of a warm chuckle still escaped him — a strange sort of snort that found its freedom through his nose.

“I’m not going to propose to you, Draco. Well, I will propose something but it won’t be marriage.”

“Good.”

Draco looked visibly relieved and Harry combed his fingers through his hair and massaged his scalp, drawing several low gasps from Draco’s lips.

“Do you want to get married?”

Harry asked the question after a few moments of silence, too curious to remain quiet and let the moment pass by.

He’d never truly thought about the exact direction of their relationship but, funnily enough, the idea didn’t terrify him.

What terrified him was how easy it was to admit that he most definitely wanted to spend the rest of his life with Draco at his side. They hadn’t been together all that long but when it came to how he felt about Draco; Harry had no doubt that he’d found true love. It sounded incredibly sappy and he felt that the idea should make him want to shudder but it didn’t. All he felt was happiness. He felt fortunate to have found someone who wanted all of him — without exceptions.

“That’s a conversation for another day,” Draco answered.

Harry chuckled.

“Always the lawyer.”

Draco frowned and Harry straightened the creases on his forehead with his fingertips, preferring it smooth.

“You neither confirmed nor denied.”

“You said you weren’t going to propose marriage; I saw no reason to confirm or deny.”

“Sneaky Slytherin.”

“And proud of it too.”

Harry smiled and rested his head back against the window, entirely uninterested in the scenery behind him — the one person he was most interested in was right here in his arms. He continued to run his fingers through Draco’s hair and while doing so, he reached out and closely curled his fingers around Draco’s hand — he didn’t feel the need to hold on tight.

He was quite sure that Draco wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

By the time the train pulled into Paris Gare du Nord some two hours later, Draco had fallen asleep in his arms.

Harry felt a little sorry for having to coax him awake but when Draco blinked and looked at him with bleary eyes and mussed hair, he immediately changed his mind.

There was just something about the way Draco looked just after waking up, still sleepy and slightly confused as to where he was and what was going on around him. Harry treasured those moments more than anything. In those precious few seconds just after Draco woke up, he looked incredibly young and vulnerable and Harry wanted to protect him and keep him safe from harm. The feeling was all-consuming and it flooded him with warmth and love. The fact that Draco voluntarily allowed him to see that side of him; Harry couldn’t find the right words to express how much he cherished Draco’s trust in him.

It took Draco a few minutes to properly gather his bearings, straighten his hair and put his shoes and coat on. Harry was a little bit faster and tying his scarf around his neck, he heaved their suitcases down from the overhead luggage rack and made to get off the train, knowing that Draco would follow.

They walked through the station, side by side, with Harry remaining in charge of their suitcases while he checked the signs and headed for the taxi rank. Thankfully the queue was short and depositing their luggage in the boot of the car, they both sat in the back.

“Where are we going?” Draco asked just as the driver asked them the same question, though in French.

Harry decided to answer only one question — Draco spoke French, he would understand.

“Bonjour, Avenue d'Léna, Shangri-La Hotel, s'il vous plait.”

“Oui, Monsieur.”

“Merci,” Harry said and fastened his seatbelt.

He told Draco to do the same and smirked when Draco looked at him with a deep frown on his face.

“Mon dieu, c'est le plus cher de Paris,” he said.

Harry laughed.

“Mais tu te trompes, mon petit prince. The Four Seasons Hotel George V costs a grand and a half a night.”

The taxi driver chuckled in the front and pulled away from the taxi rank, effortlessly inserting himself into Parisian traffic and weaving his car through it like a professional.

Draco glared icy daggers and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Vous êtes un homme impossible, Harry,” he grumbled under his breath, deliberately butchering Harry’s name by not pronouncing the H.

Harry tried but failed to ignore it.

 _‘arry_ — every time he heard that horrid pronunciation of his name, it made him shudder and grimacing, he pressed his lips firmly together. It had been one of the reasons why he’d put his foot down and resolutely refused to stay in Quebec for longer than six months after Andromeda had suggested that they spend some time there.

“Draco, tu m'aimes, même si tu ne l'admets pas.”

“Je le jure, Potter, vous êtes fous!”

“Yes, crazy about you, crazy in love with you.”

Harry abruptly switched back into English — while bantering with Draco in French was fun, it felt odd not to speak to him in English.

It was the language they conversed in and the one he was most comfortable speaking.

Draco didn’t seem to mind too much and when Harry reached across, took his hand, and squeezed it gently, he softened his glare and smiled.

What with traffic, it took them nearly forty minutes to get to the hotel.

Check-in, on the other hand, was a breeze and a little over an hour since their arrival in Paris later, they stood in one of the hotel’s Duplex Terrace Suites, which offered them two floors of refined Parisian living space for the next three nights.

Large, airy two-story-high windows opened out to a magnificent private terrace from which they were able to enjoy an unparalleled panoramic view of Paris’ famous landmark, the Eiffel Tower. The furniture inside the suite, made from natural wood and marquetry, all clear-cut shapes and symmetrical designs and the massive marble bathroom well and truly took Draco’s breath away, or so he said.

Judging by the look on his face, Harry believed him.

The deep soaking bathtub and the large walk-in shower with its mist-free mirror and heated floor inspired a few wicked ideas in Harry and unable to resist the temptation he waited for Draco to move towards the door before closing his fingers around his wrist and dragged him back inside the bathroom. He pulled Draco flush against his body and sneaked his free arm around his waist to keep him close.

Draco gave a little yelp but made no attempt to wriggle out of Harry’s embrace.

Instead, he rested his forearms on top of Harry’s shoulders and loosely wound his fingers into Harry’s hair. It had grown a little longer than usual and Harry promptly made a mental note to have it trimmed a little once they got back to London.

“The suite is really fancy.”

Harry nodded and smiled.

“I told you I’m planning to treat you like royalty this weekend.”

“Does that mean you’ll be the one kneeling for a change?”

Harry smirked and playfully smacked Draco’s arse, then pulled him into a slow and teasing kiss.

“Keep dreaming, my love.”

Upon pulling away again, he whispered the words against Draco’s lips, then locked eyes with him.

“Besides, you and I both know that you enjoy kneeling for me, don’t you, my little prince?”

Draco shuddered a little and attempted to look away but Harry kept him focused by gently pressing his palm to his cheek. He delighted in the way that Draco’s breathing hitched up a notch. He relaxed further into the embrace and pulling his fingers out of Harry’s hair, he squeezed his shoulders, using it to slightly ground himself.

“Do you— Are you planning to— Will we—?”

He struggled to articulate himself properly and Harry silenced him with a kiss.

“I’m not telling you; you’ll just have to wait and see.”

Draco let out a soft sigh.

“As usual,” he said.

Harry smiled.

“Hm, yes, as usual. It’s more fun that way.”

“For you.”

“And you. I promise. Now, how would you feel about a stroll? We could find someplace for lunch, maybe do a spot of shopping after?”

Draco’s eyes lid up a little at the prospect of good food and then mention of shopping.

“Oh, go on then, Potter, romance me crazy.”

“My speciality.”

Draco chuckled.

“Amongst other things, yes.”

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_“Bonjour, Avenue d'Léna, Shangri-La Hotel, s'il vous plait.”_** — "Hello, Avenue d'Léna, please. The Shangri-La Hotel."
> 
>  ** _“Oui, Monsieur.”_** — "Yes, Sir."
> 
>  ** _“Merci,”_** — "Thank you."
> 
>  ** _“Mon dieu, c'est le plus cher de Paris,”_** — "Heavens! That's the most expensive hotel in Paris."
> 
>  ** _“Mais tu te trompes, mon petit prince.”_** — "But you're wrong, my little prince."
> 
>  ** _“Vous êtes un homme impossible, Harry,”_** — "You are an impossible man, Harry."
> 
>  ** _“Draco, tu m'aimes, même si tu ne l'admets pas.”_** — "Draco, you may not want to admit it, but you love me."
> 
>  ** _“Je le jure, Potter, vous êtes fous!”_** — "I swear, Potter, you are crazy!"


	58. I'll Treat You Like Royalty (If You Obey My Rules)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say?
> 
> This chapter was a pure joy to write. I loved everything about creating it, even though it made me hungry and frustrated me ( _especially when I had to make rewrites for because my characters insisted in going into a direction I did not want them to go into - that's the problem with strong characters, they always do whatever they want to do and trying to rein them in takes an arm and a leg and half your sanity_ ) but also on other levels.
> 
> Research for this chapter was delightful on all levels and the conversations that followed afterwards were even better.
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed creating it.
> 
> Much love,
> 
> Selly x

* * *

Draco eyed himself in the floor-length mirror, twisting a little to the right and then to the left. He couldn’t help but feel a little bit unsure about the outfit. It certainly made him look good but for some reason — and that reason was Harry Potter — he still couldn’t stop himself from nervously fiddling with it.

He continued to repeatedly rearrange the collar of his shirt and adjusted the buckle of the brown leather belt which he’d slipped through the belt loops of the snow-white cotton trousers, he was currently wearing. He wanted a pair of trousers to contrast the dark blue button-up shirt, he’d picked up earlier, and for some miraculous reason, this white pair of trousers had won against a pair of grey slacks. When it came to fashion, Paris was apparently making him bolder than usual, at least when it came to his clothing choices.

Because it wasn’t his everyday sort of choice, he was also a little hesitant to exit the dressing room and present himself to Harry. That, and the fact that just before entering the second boutique they’d started playing a little game where Harry would either subtly nod his head to approve an outfit or shake his head to reject whatever Draco had chosen.

It was a thrilling little activity that continued to challenge his resolve not to talk back whenever Harry disapproved of an item, he rather liked. He couldn’t help but fantasise about what Harry might do if he talked back now. He’d been quite lenient at the beginning of the game but had tightened the reins now and Draco couldn’t decide whether he wanted to continue to be good or boldly show Harry some sass.

At the beginning of their little game he had, quite resolutely so, talked back, but eventually, he’d mellowed a bit and had started to enjoy Harry taking control over their shopping trip. This was also why Draco was hesitant to show Harry some of his signature Malfoyesque cheek.

Harry’s dominance was delicate and barely there and each time Draco waited for Harry to either nod or shake his head, he found himself holding his breath for a few seconds and his whole body tingled as he tried to read Harry’s facial expressions and gauge his decision.

Up until now, he’d been wrong every single time. Harry had an incredible poker face and when he brought it out, his thoughts were nearly impossible to figure out.

So far, Harry had been rather indulgent of his desire to shop to his heart’s content and approved nearly everything but Draco had the strange feeling that his luck was running out and that Harry was about to get a lot stricter — or maybe it was just a bit of a fantasy on his part. He really wasn’t sure anymore.

What he did know, however, was that the idea of Harry taking more control, making it perfectly obvious that he was in charge, both excited and terrified him and fidgeting with the buttons on his shirtsleeve, Draco undid them, then did them up again. He took a deep breath and reaching for the handle, he slowly pushed the door to his changing room open and stepped back out onto the shop floor.

He found Harry still sat in a comfortable chair – precisely where he’d left him before he’d vanished inside the spacious dressing room. Harry had thrown one leg over the other and was leafing through the boutique’s catalogue, or a fashion magazine, Draco wasn’t quite sure, while idly sipping on a takeaway cup of coffee. Draco shuffled from one foot to the other and cleared his throat.

For a moment, Harry continued to browse the magazine in his lap, then he lifted his head and let his eyes sweep over him, slowly, calculatingly, and never giving the slightest hint as to what he was thinking about.

Draco shuddered a little.

Whenever Harry looked at him with that piercing look, both curious and scrutinising as well as a little appraising but said nothing, Draco felt exposed and just a little vulnerable — it made him feel like he was on display for Harry and he couldn’t quite stop electric jolt that zapped through his spine, making him stand that little bit straighter. He knew that Harry wasn’t really judging him but he still felt nervous.

He took half a step closer and pushed his hands into his trouser pockets, then promptly pulled them out again and feeling tense, he looked around for the nearest mirror and adjusted his shirt’s collar. He’d left the top two buttons undone and while there was absolutely nothing left to rearrange, he just couldn’t help himself. Besides, he didn’t know what else to do with his hands.

“What do you think?” Draco asked.

He was a little desperate to break the silence between them.

Harry smiled warmly and Draco almost immediately felt himself relax a little bit more. Harry gave him another once-over and as he did, Draco tried telling himself to keep calm and cool.

“The outfit looks good but I think you should undo another button; it looks a bit stiff like this. A little more playful would suit you better.”

Draco frowned and glanced at his reflection in the mirror. The shirt absolutely did not look stiff with only two buttons undone. It looked just right and exactly the way it should be since this wasn’t the type of shirt you wore a tie with. He was a respectable Englishman, not an Italian Casanova. He furrowed his brows and looked back at Harry. Their eyes met again and holding Harry’s gaze, Draco felt his hand twitch at his side.

A small part of him wanted to tell Harry exactly what he thought of undoing a third button but an even larger part of him, most of him really, wanted to obey Harry.

Harry had used _that_ voice, the one that made his knees go weak, his head spin and his heart beat just a little faster — it made not following through just that little bit harder, especially if he saw no discernible reason not do what Harry wanted him to do.

He shifted from one foot to the other and back again, swallowed a sigh and glanced down at his hand. The itch in his fingers was steadily growing stronger. He watched as Harry uncrossed his legs, sipped on his coffee, and moved the magazine to a nearby coffee table. He couldn’t really work out what was going through Harry’s mind. As usual, his expression gave nothing away and it irked him just a little bit.

Then Harry raised an eyebrow at him, a silent question as to whether he planned to follow through or bear the consequences of disobeying an order, and the very last of Draco’s solve crumbled. He brought his hand up and willing it not to shake, he undid another button and adjusted the shirt collar.

“Perfect. You are gorgeous, my little prince.”

Harry approved with a playful smile.

Draco couldn’t help but smile in return. Whenever Harry got his way, he looked like the cat that had gotten the cream and then some and Draco could never quite stop the butterflies in his stomach from fluttering about and making summersaults.

Pleasing Harry did wicked things to him, things that were highly addictive and that he wanted more of. Most of the times it was just so easy to let go and to hand the reins over to Harry. The fact that he trusted him and that they were both heads over heels in love with each other certainly helped.

“Thank you.”

“Would you like to keep shopping or shall we head back to the hotel and chill a bit before dinner?” Harry asked him, casually glancing at his wristwatch.

“What time is it?”

“Just gone half three.”

Draco thought for a minute and then decided that he had enough. They’d been walking around Paris since late this morning and while shopping and trying on clothes was always a lot of fun, he was ready to throw himself onto their massive bed at the hotel, order something sweet from the hotel’s room service and maybe indulge in a movie and a cuddle — which he was sure Harry wouldn’t begrudge him. He never did.

“Let’s head back?”

Harry nodded.

“Sure,” he said, then got to his feet and stretched.

“I’ll get changed.”

Draco moved towards the changing room but before he had taken more than two steps, he felt Harry’s hand close around his wrist and stop him. He turned and quirked a questioning eyebrow at Harry.

“Don’t I get a kiss?” Harry asked with a sly smile.

Draco chuckled.

He turned around, took a step closer to Harry and pressing his lips against Harry’s, he kissed him.

“Better?”

“Much better, now go get changed so I can take you back to the hotel. If you’re good we may even stop at that French bakery I saw across the road.”  
  
“Yes, Sir.”

Draco grinned and mock-saluted, then pretended to look offended when Harry smacked his arse.

“Such insolence, we shall talk about that later,” Harry said.

Draco rolled his eyes and made sure to duck out of Harry’s immediate reach lest he decided to smack him again — they were, after all, in public and Draco didn’t need the shop assistant to know how much he liked it when Harry spanked him.

That was between him and Harry and them alone.

* * *

* * *

Harry checked his wristwatch. He waited precisely five minutes, then cast a mild Muggle-Repelling Charm and headed towards the changing room. Pulling the door open, he slipped inside, then gently closed the door behind him. He kept his hand on the door handle, channelled his magic and wandlessly cast a locking charm, then added a silencing charm just for good measure.

Draco, having heard him enter, spun around.

“Ha—”

“Ssh.”

Harry cut him off and casually leaning back against the door, he let his eyes roam over Draco’s body. He was practically naked and apart from his black cotton socks and a pair of black boxer briefs he wasn’t wearing anything else and Harry rather liked the sight of him.

Draco frowned.

“What—?”

Harry merely shook his head, let his eyes wander some more and licked his lips.

“You are delectable, my little prince,” he said.

He purposefully kept his voice low, gave it a husky undertone too and smirked when Draco visibly shuddered. Pushing himself away from the door, he took a step closer, paused, then took another one.

“This game’s been so much fun, hasn’t it?” he asked.

Draco gulped, then nodded.

“Yes,” he said.

Harry took immense pleasure in the fact that Draco sounded somewhat breathless.

“I think we should up the stakes a little more.”

Draco’s eyes widened and he frantically shook his head.

“No— I’m not going to— I don’t want to— Not in here.”

Harry took another step closer.

In response, Draco took a step backwards and ended up with his back pressed against the cold floor-length mirror and shuddered. The glass was cold against his bare back.

“Relax, Draco. While the idea is thrilling, I’m not going to ask you for sex in the changing room, not this time anyway. I have a different proposition entirely.”

“Potter, for Merlin’s sake, the shop assistant will hear you and call the Muggle police to have us arrested for public indecency.”

Harry chuckled and resting the tip of his index finger just below Draco’s Adam’s apple, he slowly ran it down the centre of his chest, over his stomach and right down to his navel, which he circled, repeatedly. Draco’s stomach muscles flexed underneath the taut skin and Harry gently rested his hand above his stomach and splayed his fingers out over the warm skin.

“None of that will happen, trust me,” he said softly.

Draco sighed but relaxed visibly. He couldn’t help but believe Harry — he had no reason to lie and that wasn’t him.

“You are the devil,” he whispered.

“You like it,” Harry countered, then leant in and captured Draco’s lips in a slow, teasing kiss and sneaking his free arm around Draco’s waist, he ran it over his buttocks, then squeezed gently and repeatedly.

“Sometimes I wonder why I do, then you do things like this—”

“And you forget to wonder.”

Harry finished Draco’s sentence with a wicked grin, then pressed another kiss to his lips. He lingered for a while, allowed his lips to ghost over Draco’s and teased the thin and highly sensitive skin. He alternated between squeezing and rubbing Draco’s gorgeous behind and let his hand slide from Draco’s stomach to his hip. He squeezed, then pulled back a little and looked at Draco, holding his gaze for several long moments.

“How would you feel about a little reminder that you’re mine for the duration of the journey back to the hotel?”

Draco’s breathing hitched several notches and his pupils grew larger.

“What— what kind of reminder?” he asked.

Instead of telling Draco, Harry reached inside the pocket of his coat and pulled out a little box. A simple wandless spell restored it to its original size and flicking the lid open, he presented Draco with a simple black butt plug, 1.75 inches in diameter and with a 3.80 inches insertable length.

It had an optimised base that was comfortable but flared enough to ensure it was completely safe to use, even while walking down the street. Spirals on the neck, the part that would be resting near Draco’s sphincter — if he agreed to wear it that was — made sure that the plug would stay put during use and trapped enough lube to make for easy removal after an extended session.

While the Muggle variant required the use of a phone application to activate the plug’s vibrations, Harry had magically altered this version to react to several incantations which adjusted the speed and strength of the vibrations.

Draco’s eyes grew just that little bit larger and he swallowed hard. He stared at the butt plug for several minutes, then slowly dragged his eyes up to meet Harry’s and swallowed again. He brought his hand up and let his finger hover above the plug but didn’t touch it.

“It’s your choice, Draco, I won’t force you to wear it, you know that.”

“I know,” Draco murmured.

He let his hand drop back to his side and closed his eyes to take a deep breath. He then slowly opened his eyes again and gently brushing his thumb against his cheekbone, Harry caressed it softly and delighted in the small tremor that surged through Draco.

“I want to, please, Sir,” he whispered.

Harry kissed him unhurriedly.

He slowly pried his lips apart, teased them with the tip of his tongue, then slipped it inside and wound it around Draco’s, enticing it to join him in an unrushed back and forth that resulted in Draco gripping his shoulders and holding on for support as he let out tiny little moans of pleasure. Harry greedily swallowed them all and for the longest time, kissing was all they did.

Eventually, however, Harry did pull away and pressing his lips to Draco’s ear he told him to turn around. He used his husky voice, a low raspy drawl that made Draco shudder in his arms and obey him without a second thought.

Draco stood with his front pressed up against the mirror, hands on either side of his body. His lips were kiss-swollen, red, and wet and he had his fingers splayed out against the mirror as he breathed softly. His eyelids continuously fluttered open and closed, as though he couldn’t quite decide whether to keep them open to look at himself in the mirror or close them to focus on the sensations that were about to come.

Harry pressed his lips to Draco’s shoulder, trailed kisses along his collarbone and the back of his neck and let his fingers run up and down Draco’s spine. He rubbed over the small of his back, then shuffled a bit to the side and hooking two fingers into Draco’s boxer briefs, he slowly dragged them down and exposed his arse.

Draco shivered and shuddered and Harry distracted him with more kisses, then he teased along the crack and discreetly mumbled a cleaning spell to prepare Draco, who pursed his lips and tried his hardest to bite back a moan but didn’t quite manage.

“Spread your legs a bit for me,” Harry whispered and reaching into the inside pocket of his coat, he produced a small phial of lube which he prepared with a warming spell, then uncorked.

He expertly moved Draco’s underwear a little further out of the way, coated a single finger with plenty of lube and slipping it between Draco’s buttocks, he ran it over his hole, teasing the furrowed opening. It quivered underneath his gentle touch and nibbling along the shell of Draco’s ear, he exhaled, bathing it with his hot breath.

“OK?” he asked.

Draco nodded, then pressed his forehead against the cool glass of the mirror.

He finally came to a decision and his eyes fluttered closed and remained so.

Harry continued to tease, then pushed a single finger against the tight ring of muscle. Draco clenched a little and inhaled sharply.

“Relax, my love,” Harry whispered.

He took his time and gently eased his finger into Draco, alternating between slowly pushing it in and pulling it out. Normally it took much less effort for him to enter Draco but given their current location, Harry understood that Draco had a little trouble loosening up, in every sense of the word.

Harry said nothing.

Instead, he continued to prepare Draco, continued to lose him up and before long, his finger effortlessly slipped in and out of Draco’s tight channel. Draco let out tiny little breathy moans and shuddered and shook. Harry pressed against his prostate, forced a moan-grunt-mewl from him and found himself sorely tempted to pleasure Draco until he clenched around his finger and came hard.

Instead, Harry pulled back a little, lined a second finger up and slipping two fingers into Draco, he felt him tense, then gradually loosen. He wriggled his fingers, pressing them firmly against Draco’s prostate and massaging it gently. He continued to place several more kisses on Draco’s bare shoulder, traced his shoulder blade with his tongue and bit the side of his neck, right where his shoulder and neck met.

Draco nearly howled at the sudden pain but Harry distracted him by rubbing against his prostate. He finger-fucked him for another couple of moments, then reached for the butt plug and took it out of the box, which had been hovering beside him ever since he’d shown it to Draco.

“Are you ready my sweet little prince?” he whispered, pressing several lingering kisses all over the top of Draco’s back.

“Yes, Sir.”

Draco’s reply was instant and the use of _that_ word made Harry want to screw the rules. He wanted to take his cock out, lube it up and sink it into Draco, then fuck him hard until his ambient magic shattered the mirror in front of them into a thousand tiny little pieces.

Despite the urge, he restrained himself and removing his fingers from inside Draco’s arse, then readied the butt plug. He coated it with plenty of lube to ensure that it would slide inside with one fluid motion.

Harry used one hand to spread Draco’s buttocks apart, positioned the butt plug at his hole and then slowly pushed, sliding it in without the slightest bit of rush. It took a while until he’d eased the toy fully inside and once done, he twisted it around, then left it alone. He still wanted to fuck Draco, either with his hands or that toy but preferably with his cock but he continued to restrain himself. There would be time for that later.

For now, it was time to clean his sticky fingers as well as wipe away the lubricant that stuck to places it didn’t belong to. Eventually, though, he was satisfied and helped Draco to pull his boxers back up.

Draco slowly turned around, let out a shaky sigh and leaned back against the mirror. He tilted his head back, made a strange sort of voice that was a kind of grunt-groan. He breathed deeply, then slowly opened his eyes and Harry smiled and caressed his pale cheek which was now very flushed.

“I’m going to need a moment,” he breathed

“Take all the moments you need, my little prince,” Harry said and leaning close he pressed a tiny kiss to Draco’s slightly parted lips.

It took about five minutes until Draco had composed himself enough to attempt to put his own clothes back on and another five minutes until he felt brave enough to leave the changing room.

In the meantime, Harry gathered up all the clothes Draco had tried on and sorted through them, choosing between those Draco wanted to buy and those they wouldn’t be bringing back to the hotel with them.

By the time they’d paid and the shop assistant had organised all of Draco’s purchases into several bags, another fifteen minutes had passed but eventually they found themselves outside the exclusive boutique and taking Draco’s hand, Harry gently dragged him down the street, across a zebra crossing and into a small bakery, inside which it smelled so delicious that Draco let out a low moan and bit his bottom lip as his cheeks pinked in embarrassment.

Harry knew that it wasn’t due to the butt plug, he’d talked Draco into wearing.

* * *

* * *

Draco let his eyes roam over the stellar selection of flaky viennoiseries and inhaled deeply. He just about managed to stop himself from licking his lips and pressing them firmly together, he resisted the urge to let out a tiny moan. He didn’t know when or how Harry had discovered the small bakery, he’d dragged him into, but he also didn’t care. It was bustling with people ordering pastries to eat in or take away and the distinctive tantalising aroma of baked goods made Draco feel dizzy. This was magic, beautiful enchanting magic that required no wand but a mere mixture of flour, water, and butter.

When it came to pastries, the French created truly artistic works of irresistible heavenly delights and Draco knew that he wouldn’t be able to choose. It didn’t matter how much time he had. He wanted everything. He wanted to sink his teeth into a fresh, fluffy, and honeycombed croissant but at the same time, he also wanted one of those lighter than air shell-shaped tea cakes called Madeleines. Despite the copious amount of sugar and butter, and Draco was sure about that, anything that looked so exquisitely perfect could not be a sin.

Then there were those sensational Gâteau St. Honoré. Their base consisted of luxurious puff pastry dough topped with a ring of pâte à choux. Draco could practically taste the pastry cream filling and the delicate sugar-dipped cream puffs, that made for the final topping, made it rather difficult for him to tear his eyes away from the sumptuous sweet treat.

Draco barely dared to look at the round crusty Kouign-amann with its dusting of sugar. It made his mouth water and his despite not actually feeling hungry, his stomach grumbled and demanded to be fed. He sighed, feeling helpless and just a little overwhelmed and nearly jumped a mile out of his skin when Harry leant close and whispered into his ear.

“How about a piece of Mille-feuille and a cup of hot chocolate with loads of cream? I’ll get us a selection of pastries to take back to the hotel and you can nosh on them later or whenever you feel like it.”

Draco slowly turned his head, looked at Harry and blinked.

 _Thank Merlin for you, Harry Potter_ , he thought but the words never made it past his lips. He’d said too many sappy things already and while Harry did manage to bring out the worst in him — in the best possible way of course — he wasn’t quite ready to confess that in the middle of a bustling bakery with a display that made it hard to think straight.

“Yes,” he nodded, opting for the simplest answer of all.

Harry smiled and Draco couldn’t help wonder just how obvious he’d been about his inability to choose a pastry he wanted to enjoy with his overly sweet hot chocolate. Then again, Harry did possess the uncanny ability to deduce whatever was going on in his mind by simply looking at him.

“Go find us a seat. They have those Muggle heaters outside so we can sit there and people-watch for a while if you like,” Harry said.

Draco nodded mutely, turned on his heel and disappeared outside to snag them both a small table, preferably somewhere near one of those heaters, Harry had just mentioned. Mid-February in Paris was uncharacteristically cold and while heating charms were always an option, Draco wasn’t at all inclined to cast one. Mainly because he was sure that he was in no fit state to focus his magic for long enough to successfully produce a wandless heating charm.

He tried his hardest not to concentrate on the butt plug, Harry had worked into him about half an hour ago but it was fruitless. He could feel the blasted silicone plug move with every step that he took. The spirals around the neck teased his entrance and the round-ended smooth cone teased him mercilessly.

It felt good, very good, and since it wasn’t the first time Harry had made him wear one in public — and he hadn’t resisted the suggestion — he was well-used to the sensations. That didn’t mean that he knew how to ignore them though.

This plug was a little longer and thicker than the one they usually used although it was also ridiculously soft and very gentle on his insides. It was plush, kind of squishy even. It conformed perfectly to his body yet also managed to somehow force him to conform to it.

The plug’s thin neck greatly minimised the stress on his sphincter and Draco reckoned that, given the right incentive, he should be able to forget that Harry had plugged him, but he simply couldn’t. Not after the excruciatingly tender way Harry had worked him open with plenty of lube and his fingers and so many kisses.

It had felt like foreplay and it had taken him all his willpower and then some to stop himself from begging Harry to fuck him right there and then. The idea of public sex still somewhat terrified him but after what had transpired between him and Harry in that changing room, he was dangerously close to changing his mind. In fact, he was quite sure that he’d end up changing his mind before the year was out.

Draco shuddered at the memory of his surrender in that dressing room and pushed it aside.

He glanced around, spotted two empty chairs around a small table, and slowly walking towards it, he took a seat and propping his chin up on his elbows he idly watched the people that rushed past the bakery. He could barely feel the plug now, it had moulded itself perfectly to his body, complimenting it rather than forcing him open and inflicting prolonged discomfort.

He smiled softly.

With Harry’s experience, Draco really hadn’t expected anything else. The kind of discomfort he inflicted on him was always pleasurable and while it was occasionally painful enough to leave him with marks and colourful bruises, Draco wanted all of it and then some.

Harry called his submission a gift, a sweet treasure he cherished beyond everything else and Draco agreed. Everything he allowed Harry to do to him was because he let it happen because he allowed himself to admit that he wanted, no, _needed_ it to happen.

Unsure whether it was the knowledge that Harry had him plugged and wanted him to be ready for whenever he decided to have some fun with him or something else entirely, Draco thoroughly lost himself in the sensations of his submission.

His X-rated thoughts made him blush and briefly closing his eyes, he tried to compose himself but failed rather spectacularly. The thrill that nobody knew why he was excited or what was going on between him and Harry — and the control he had over him — was a little too much for him.

Not enough to make him thoroughly lose his bearings but enough to work him up and make him shudder with excitement. His mind filled with way too many filthy ideas, though he knew he had no hope of matching Harry’s imagination. When it came to playtime, Harry always surprised him. He was never predictable and it was never repetitive or boring.

“Earth to Draco Malfoy, are you there?”

Two fingers snapped in front his face and dragging himself out of his musings, Draco sat up straighter, blinked several times and blankly stared at Harry, who had seated himself in the chair across from him.

Between them, on the table, was a small tray with a large cup of hot chocolate and cream, a plate with the piece of Mille-feuille, Harry had promised him, and a steaming cup of strong black coffee which Harry had wrapped his hands around. He looked thoroughly bemused and the devious twinkle in his eyes told Draco everything he needed to know — Harry knew exactly where his mind had just been.

Huffing out a breath of air, Draco remained silent. He wrapped his hands around his hot chocolate and bringing the cup to his lips, he took a sip of the frighteningly sweet beverage, then stuck his tongue out to lap up the cream that stuck to his top lip.

Harry chuckled, reached out and brushed some cream off the tip of his nose, then suggestively sucked it off his finger which resulted in Draco inhaling sharply. He stared, unabashedly, and felt his entire body react to the simple action. His cock swelled in his trousers — it had been painfully hard by the time Harry had stopped fingering him but had grown soft again as he’d distracted himself with attempting to relax around the plug.

Now that he was, sort of, used to it, he had no other excuse and shuffling a little in his seat, he spread his legs a bit to get more comfortable. His knee brushed against Harry’s and the warmth that seeped through his trousers crept up his leg and excited him a little further.

“Open up,” Harry said quietly.

For a moment, it took Draco a tremendous amount of resolve to work out exactly what Harry had meant. A part of him wanted to part his legs even further, thought that this was what Harry wanted, then he realised that Harry was offering him a forkful of Mille-feuille and parting his lips, he allowed himself to be fed.

The piece of sweet pastry assaulted his already fraying senses and momentarily closing his eyes, Draco hummed. It was all he could do to resist the moan that wanted to escape from the depths of his throat and feeling just a bit shaky and utterly unable to eat the divine dessert himself, he was thoroughly grateful when Harry continued to feed him.

The charged atmosphere between them, laced with a little too much anticipation and desire, nearly drove him to the brink of insanity. He clenched his fingers into tight fists and willed himself to relax. When that didn’t quite work, Draco bit his bottom lip and felt his cock twitch almost violently in his trousers, which were entirely too tight for comfort.

Harry fed himself a piece of Mille-feuille and Draco had no idea how in the name of Salazar Slytherin he managed to resist the urge to suppress the loud groan that threatened to spill past his lips. He hastily took a few sips of his hot chocolate, then sat the ceramic cup down with shaking hands and promptly stared at Harry with disbelieving eyes.

“Harry—” he breathed and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

The plug was gently buzzing inside him, stimulating the sensitive walls of his passage and the flanged end mildly stimulated his prostate from the outside. It made him squirm and he clenched his teeth together.

“Anything the matter, my love?”

Harry posed the question with such an air of nonchalance that it felt almost believable that he pretended to have no idea why Draco was suddenly unable to sit still. It was, however, a little bit too believable and glowering darkly, Draco pursed his lips together.

“That pastry tastes wonderful, don’t you think?”

The abrupt change of subject resulted in Draco’s inability to continue glowering and blinking, he shifted a little more. Somehow, it only served to increase the sensations and he attempted to sit very still.

“What are you doing?”

It took quite some effort to force the question out.

“Drinking coffee and eating a delicious French pastry together with my boyfriend while we enjoy a romantic Valentine’s Day getaway in Paris.”

Draco ground his teeth together and curled his fingers around the edge of the table.

“Harry, please.”

The vibrations promptly increased in intensity and suddenly reminded of his birthday the previous year, the dinner on the boat while floating down the River Thames, Draco felt a strange sense of déjà vu.

He sighed and squirmed some more. His prostate thanked him for it and he squeezed his eyes closed and tried, desperately so, to focus on breathing normally. The last he wanted was to attract the attention of several nosy Parisians.

“Good?” Harry asked.

Draco knew he had two choices — he could either lie and bear the punishment that would follow or he could settle for the truth. He chose neither for a desperate little moan forced itself out in the open and blushing furiously, he hid his face in the crook his arm and bit into his coat.

 _Please_ , he begged, unable to say the words but repeating them in his mind like some sort of never-ending mantra.

The vibrations of the plug briefly increased in intensity and Draco squirmed and fervently hoped that his coat had swallowed the groan he’d been unable to contain any longer. Suddenly the vibrations stopped altogether and a pleasant sort of warmth spread from the entrance of his hole through his insides, filling him with anticipation and an intense sort of longing he’d never quite experienced before.

He was completely sure that it was the plug and a wicked spell that Harry had cast on the thing but he didn’t have the resolve to hate it. Compared to the vibrations, it felt nice, relaxing, calming.

Harry offered him another piece of pastry, which he accepted after taking several moments to gather the last crumbs of his composure together, Draco cloaked himself with it — at least for as long as Harry allowed him to remain that way. It turned out that Harry was feeling benevolent and allowed him to finish his pastry and hot chocolate without any further interruptions.

Harry also let him walk down the street without any distracting vibrations that would result in him squirming and shuddering, fighting not to moan, in the middle of the road. The pleasant warmth, however, did not disappear. It lingered and it continued to distract him, almost more so than the actual plug.

By the time they snagged a taxi back to the hotel, his grace period was over and Harry made him squirm throughout the entire trip which took too long because traffic in Paris was horrid.

At some point, Draco grabbed Harry’s knee and squeezed it hard, a silent but desperate plea for a moment of respite which Harry did not grant. He only turned the vibrations off once they got out of the car and slowly made their way towards the hotel entrance.

Once inside the lift, Draco squeezed into the corner and tried his hardest not to squirm as another wave of vibrations assaulted him and when the lift came to a halt on their floor and the doors opened, it only took him a second to realise that Harry expected him to walk down the corridor with the plug vibrating inside of him, stimulating him and teasing his prostate mercilessly. He could feel his cock leak inside his underwear and closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, then stared at Harry and implored him to give him a fighting chance.

Harry merely smirked.

“After you, little prince,” he said.

Draco ground his teeth together, clenched his fists inside the pockets of his coat and grudgingly stepped out of the lift. He tried to walk as normally as possible but failed spectacularly. The fact that Harry was undoubtedly staring at his arse while he walked towards their room, didn’t help.

He was entirely grateful when they both finally disappeared inside their suite and the door closed behind them. Draco warily watched as Harry neatly placed all their shopping bags in front of the wall beside the door, then turned around to face him.

Before Draco could comprehend what was going on, he found himself pressed up against the door with Harry’s hands massaging his buttocks, forcing him to involuntarily, but repeatedly, clench around the plug inside of him.

He let out a low groan and almost felt relieved when Harry claimed his mouth in a passionate kiss and forced his lips apart so he could thrust his tongue inside of him and explore the inside of his mouth as he teased but never properly engaged with his tongue.

Draco moaned into the possessive kiss and slammed the palms of his hands against the door. Harry roughly moved him and temporarily distracted him. He paid no heed to the vibrations inside his arse — well almost no heed, they were very difficult to ignore.

Harry kissed him until he was breathless and his lungs burned with feverish protest. His knees buckled and his legs shook while his mind went to a place where nothing but _Yes, Sir_ and _Thank you, Sir_ made sense.

His brain short-circuited and he couldn’t for the life of him remember the incantation to make an object float in the air. He was vaguely aware that he’d learnt it before attending Hogwarts but that was about it and when Harry finally pulled away, Draco simply slumped against the door and panted hard.

He wanted to sink down to the floor and remain there but wasn’t quite sure how to execute said wish. It seemed like a momentous task and combing a shaking hand through his hair, he stared at Harry and continued to gulp in large amounts of air in the hope that all the oxygen would appease his burning lungs.

Harry growled lowly, grabbed his chin hard, squeezed, and leant close.

“Mine,” he said.

 _Fuck, yes, yours, Sir_ , Draco thought but the only reaction he was able to produce was a strange sort of nod, made difficult by the hold Harry had on his chin.

“I’m going to go upstairs to the bedroom to fetch a little something. When I come back, I expect you to find you naked and, on your knees. You will keep your eyes on the floor and you will be kneeling facing the door with your hands resting behind your back. If that isn’t the case your lovely arse will pay the price for your disobedience, are we clear, my little prince?”

Draco let out a low moan, then whispered his acknowledgement.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good boy.”

With that Harry turned on his heel and disappeared upstairs and Draco didn’t think he’d ever stripped out of his clothing faster than right this moment.

He haphazardly threw his clothes over the nearest chair and for a moment he felt the desire to fumble with the plug inside his arse but he knew better than to go there.

Instead, he took a deep breath and slowly sank to his knees, making sure to face the door. He lowered his gaze and staring at the floor, he focused on the carpet beneath his knees — it was soft but it still burned into his skin and he shifted uncomfortably. He remembered to place his hands behind his back and with nothing else left to do, he simply waited.

He wasn’t entirely sure how much time had passed but at some point, he heard Harry come down the stairs. He felt his eyes on him, felt Harry watching him and inhaled sharply. A small shiver surged through him and jerking his head up a little, he focused on the threshold below the door and willed himself to remain calm.

“Beautiful, so beautiful.”

Harry’s praise washed over him like warm water cascading down over his body whenever he stood in the shower and he let out a shaky and very much audible breath when Harry’s fingers wound themselves into his hair and massaged his sensitive scalp.

“You’re my good boy, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Draco answered without thinking — there wasn’t anything to think about, it wasn’t his place to do so.

For now, it was Harry’s responsibility and he trusted Harry explicitly. There was no way Harry would ever do anything that violated their agreed limits and the knowledge that he was safe, loved and cared for helped Draco to relax. The sensation of fully surrendering to Harry flooded his mind and took over control. All but one thought remained — one word, if it at any point got too much, he could stop it all with one word.

“Are you ready to please me, my little prince?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“I do like the sound of that promise, sweet one.”

Harry sensuous voice, low and husky, washed over him and letting out a low moan, Draco closed his eyes. He felt the smoothness of his leather collar as Harry wrapped it around his neck and fastened it expertly, then jumped when he felt the coolness of an iron chain resting against his spine. Harry crouched down behind him and Draco felt him slip two leather cuffs around his wrists. They fit snuggly and comfortably and he was vaguely aware of the fact that the chain connected the cuffs to his collar and that he wouldn’t be able to move his arms from behind his back.

“I can’t wait to play with you. I’m going to have so much fun driving you crazy, my little prince. You’re mine for the rest of the day, mine to do with as I please. Isn’t that so?”

Harry breathed the words into his ear while his hand slipped between Draco’s arse cheeks and he pressed against the plug, gently moving it, and pushing it a tiny bit deeper into him.

Draco whimpered.

“Yes, Sir.”

“I’m so glad we agree on that. Now, tell me, my little prince, are you allowed to come?”

Harry twisted the plug around inside of him and Draco mewled.

“No, Sir, not without your permission.”

“And do you have my permission?”

“No, Sir.”

“That’s right. And how may you obtain my permission?”

Harry twisted the plug again and Draco keened as the vibrations started up again.

“I will ask, Sir,” he whispered breathlessly, not unwilling but unable to speak any louder.

“Yes, you will, my sweet little prince.”

Draco felt the plug twisting around inside of him once more and shuddered. He was desperate and wanted, no, _needed_ Harry to fuck him.

After all that teasing with the plug, he really wanted Harry to take him hard and be rough with him, but he had the feeling that asking for it wouldn’t get him anywhere.

He briefly considered begging for it but dismissed the idea, not because he didn’t want to but because he couldn’t find the right words to articulate himself. A helpless _please_ slipped past his lips and when Harry stood up and pulled him to his feet, he rose willingly.

Harry guided him towards the stairs and instructed him to start climbing. It took Draco a nearly overwhelming amount of effort not to stumble as he focused all his attention into making his way up the carpeted staircase.

Once upstairs he was most grateful when Harry pushed him to his knees in front of the bed and forced his torso down onto the mattress.

“I’ve had to look at you changing in and out of clothes for most of the day, I’m feeling utterly horny. I’ve also had my fingers in your arse working you open and knowing that you’ve been walking around with a plug up your arse has made me rather desperate for some release,” Harry spoke directly into his ear.

Draco shuddered and trembled. Beyond wriggling his toes and fingers he was entirely unable to move and he relished in it. The thrill of his willing surrender and of knowing that Harry would take care of him and keep him safe pushed him further into his submission and he let out a tiny little whimper.

“Use me, Sir.”

The words slipped out without any conscious thought and Draco felt his cheeks heat as he blushed furiously.

Harry’s chuckle zapped down his spine, made his cock twitch and pooled somewhere low in the pit of his stomach, warming his groin.

“I absolutely will use you for my pleasure, my sweet little prince, you are mine.”

Draco’s brain short-circuited once more and he groaned into the mattress.

 _Yes, yes, yes, a thousand times yes_ , he belonged to Harry and he needed Harry to use him, to take advantage of him and to fuck him hard and mercilessly.

“But first, we shall make sure that you don’t come until I say that you’re ready. We’re also going to make sure that your lovely cock stays hard for me, aren’t we?”

A wave of trepidation washed over Draco and he trembled. Harry’s fingers wrapped around his cock and stroked the hard flesh, forcing a garbled mesh of words and moans from him that even Draco knew made no sense to anyone’s ears

He could feel his desire to come rise, could feel it spread through his body.

It was a marvellous sensation but it was over way too soon. He felt a cool ring of silicone slide down the length of his cock and a moment later a cock ring snuggly encased his weeping twitching prick and his tight heavy balls.

“It’s charmed, there’s absolutely no way you’ll accidentally come while wearing it,” Harry informed him.

Draco groaned.

He was both excited and thoroughly terrified of the toy, mainly because he had absolutely no idea how long Harry intended to keep him on the edge. Not wanting to think about it, he emptied his mind and promptly froze when he heard Harry unbuckle his belt and drag the sipper of his jeans down.

Several moments passed, then Draco felt pressure against his sphincter and moaned as Harry repeatedly twisted the plug inside of him before pulling it out so slowly that Draco thought he might just die from the onslaught of sensations. The ring of muscles around his hole stretched and a sweet burn surged through him. He inhaled sharply and let the sensation wash over him. His eyes fell closed and he felt himself drifting, floating to a different place altogether, a place where he belonged to Harry and where his sole purpose was to please his Sir and make Him feel good.

His own desperate need to come paled and all that suddenly mattered was Harry’s pleasure and his approval. He needed him to be pleased. It was an overwhelming urge that only intensified when Harry pushed into him, burying the entire length of his long thick hard cock in him.

The burn of the stretch briefly increased then disappeared and he felt Harry’s hands come to a rest on his hips. His grip was hard enough to leave bruises and Draco couldn’t wait for them to appear so he could secretly admire them in the mirror — visible proof that he belonged to Harry.

He was vaguely aware that Harry was pulling out of him but before he could bemoan the loss of feeling full of that deliciously hard pulsing cock, Harry slammed back into him.

Draco’s entire body shuddered from the impact but he didn’t resist, not even a little.

He wanted this, _needed_ this.

Harry’s thrusts were hard and unforgiving and he groaned as he repeatedly drove into him, fucking him hard, fast, rough.

It felt like heaven.

Each thrust stretched Draco’s hole and made him shiver and shudder. A seemingly endless number of breathless pleas fell from his lips and when Harry’s fingers wound themselves into his hair and tugged, Draco moaned and felt his eyes water. The level of pain wasn’t unbearable but it was noticeable and Draco revelled in it.

Not long after that, he felt Harry’s palm connect with his arse — _smack_.

It stung and his skin burned as blood flowed to the surface, undoubtedly reddening the skin. Harry continued to drive into him, continued to tug on his hair and every now and then, entirely without rhyme or reason, of course, his palm would connect with his arse, intensifying the sting and renewing the burn.

The first tears spilt over the rim of Draco’s eyes and he unashamedly let them fall.

A choked sob escaped him and he groaned.

“Mine, mine, mine,” Harry growled.

 _Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes_ , Draco thought, half delirious.

He had no idea whether he was merely thinking the words or saying them but he failed to see how it mattered.

Harry was fucking him — that was absolutely all he cared about right now. That and of course the delicious sensation of the sting he felt whenever Harry’s hand connected with his arse.

In his mind it was all over way too soon and he wanted to cry and protest and plead for Harry to take a toy or anything just so he could continue to bask in the feeling of Harry ramming something up his arse, of claiming his hole and fucking him so hard he was bound to feel the sensations of it for a couple of hours.

Instead, he focused on Harry’s unadulterated groans as he lost himself in throes of his orgasm and emptied himself deep inside of him. His come felt hot and thick and Draco’s entire body went slack beneath him. He whimpered when Harry pulled his spent cock out and gasped when he felt the tip of the butt plug. Harry pushed it all the way in, pressed against it, then leant over him and pressed his wet lips to his ear.

“My come stays inside you until I decide that I want to fuck you again and believe me I will fuck you again,” he whispered.

Draco mewled and sobbed.

His tears fell freely now, not because he was upset or hurt but because he felt entirely overwhelmed and lost in a world where nothing but Harry’s voice and Harry’s touch made sense. It felt as though he was blind, bound, gagged, and naked and only Harry could save him from drowning in a sea of emotions he didn’t know how to control.

“Ssh, sweet one, I’ve got you, I’ll keep you safe, I’ll take care of you.”

Harry’s words washed over him and Draco closed his eyes. He didn’t think of anything, he didn’t feel anything, he just listened and calmed. He was vaguely aware of Harry helping him onto the bed and telling him that he would remove the chain that connected his collar and the wrist cuffs but he didn’t care all that much. A part of him acknowledged the words, hummed to express that he understood but what he really cared about was Harry covering him with a soft blanket.

He curled into a foetal position and waited for Harry’s strong body to protectively mould itself around him. The moment he felt Harry curl around him and wrap his arms around him, offering one of them as a pillow for him to rest his head on, Draco pushed into the embrace. His sobs gradually lessened and he started to feel inexplicably tired. He gently tugged on the restraints that kept his wrists bound behind his back though not because he wanted them gone but because he enjoyed the feeling of still being at Harry’s mercy.

Somehow, the fact that he was still hard and had yet to orgasm, didn’t matter anymore. He felt Harry’s finger tease alongside his cock, felt a wave of magic and the cock ring loosened enough to allow his cock to soften. Draco doubted that it would. He still wanted to come but the sheer power of the surrendering to Harry while Harry fucked him subdued his intense desire to orgasm.

Unable to make proper sense of the reassuring words, Harry kept whispering into his ear, he focused on Harry’s gentle caress instead, then yawned and promptly fell asleep.

* * *

 


	59. Will you B (DSM) my Valentine?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, well, what do we have here? Yet another 12K chapter, we've had those before and we'll have them again, partly because sometimes I just can't stop myself from writing so much and partly because sometimes I just don't want to. Most of the time, the chapter just requires that many words, otherwise I wouldn't be able to do the scene or the moment justice and I would never want to cut anything short just because I'm trying to limit myself in some shape or form.
> 
> This shan't be something I'll ever do with this story, that's something that I told myself right from the very beginning and it's become some sort of a golden rule, along with honouring the true beauty of D/s and my characters' personalities.
> 
> Since they are still in France, somehow a little French quote slipped into the dialogue and I'm leaving you with it and its English translation but I shan't give away who says it to whom and in which situation. You'll find out when you get to that part of the chapter.
> 
> *
> 
>  _ **“C’est cela l’amour, tout donner, tout sacrifier sans espoir de retour, Monsieur.”**_ — That is love, to give away everything, to sacrifice everything, without the slightest desire to get anything in return.
> 
> *
> 
> Once again, I'm very humbled by your continued support and love for this story and as we're slowly nearing the end of our tale, I'm starting to experience a bit of anxiety in terms of letting go, however, I will try my best not to concern myself with things that are still far away and even once I finish this story, I will be back with more tales.
> 
> There may also be short stories about Caleb and Stefan or even a bit of a peek into Harry's past or Charlie's discovery of the lifestyle and his current relationship. I just know I'll end up being drawn back to the LPK arc since he's given me so much joy and pleasure and I'm so proud of it and myself for deciding to write this monstrous tale and never ever giving up. Although. I will admit that I couldn't have done without the love and support of one particular person, someone who is very dear to me and who understands how much work it was to produce this epic story of love, trust, honesty, and kink.
> 
> More chapter-specific notes can be found at the end of the story.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter. I certainly did.
> 
> Love,  
> Selly x

* * *

Draco wasn’t sure how long he’d napped but he woke up feeling refreshed and a lot less overwhelmed. He stretched and groaned when his arms, which were still bound behind his back, protested, and reminded him that he was not free to move as he pleased. Slowly opening his eyes, he blinked several times and tried to focus. Sleep still clung to the outer edges of his being and his brain only sluggishly responded to his demands. He didn’t mind, he was in no rush.

Harry had sprawled out on the bed beside him, shamelessly lounging above the covers like Adonis, the eternally youthful god of beauty and desire. He’d bent his left leg at the knee and his left hand rested casually on his stomach, just above the waistband of his black boxer briefs, which was the only piece of clothing he was wearing — they left absolutely nothing to the imagination and Draco feasted his eyes on the slight bulge in Harry’s underwear.

Draco couldn’t quite stop himself from giggling softly over his silly thoughts and he let his eyes sweep over Harry’s body with both admiration and appreciation — that man wanted him with every fibre of his being and something excitedly fluttered in the depths of Draco’s stomach.

Harry looked utterly stunning like he always did, and Draco didn’t think he’d ever tire of simply looking at him — he was sure that, should they be so lucky as to still be together in ten years’ time, he would absolutely feel the same way.

Harry’s thighs were firm and muscular, his stomach muscles clearly visible through the position of his hand obscured the trail of hair that led from his navel straight down to his groin. The bit of curled dark hair that covered the centre of his chest made Draco flex his fingers and wish that he could touch Harry but on the other hand he wasn’t quite ready to lose his restraints just yet, which was why, or so he assumed, Harry had allowed him to fall asleep still bound in them.

Draco licked his lips, he truly cherished the sight beside him, and let out a low whimper. He knew that Harry’s bronze skin would be warm to the touch, taut with rigid muscles rippling right underneath and he desperately wanted to run his fingers all over Harry’s body to explore and relish in the familiarity of it all.

Memories of earlier flooded his mind and suddenly reminded of his own nakedness Draco felt his cock interestedly twitch against the inside of his thigh — he instantly felt the charmed cock ring, Harry had put on him earlier, once again tighten around his persistent erection and bit his bottom lip to hold back another whimper.

Awkwardly shuffling closer to Harry, he yawned and was vaguely aware of the odd noises that were coming from the Muggle television in their luxurious hotel bedroom. The sound was low and straining his ears, Draco tried to make out the conversation but forgot all about that when Harry suddenly turned his head sideways and fixed him with his startlingly green eyes and a killer smile — one that instantly removed the remainder of the sluggishness, Draco still felt, from his brain and left him wide awake.

“Well hello there, my beautifully bound little prince. Slept well?”

Draco nodded.

“How are you feeling?”

“Good,” Draco answered.

He stretched a little more and let out a content little sigh.

“Hm, yes. I would hope so; you slept for a whole hour. Would you like to snuggle for a while?” Harry offered.

Draco nodded again, smiled a little, and let Harry pull him closer until his front was pressed flush against Harry’s side. He was painfully aware that Harry could feel his half-hard cock pressing against him even if he did not react to it in any way. Draco tentatively repositioned his leg until his thigh rested on top of Harry’s and was grateful when he didn’t receive a reprimand for his boldness. He let his head rest on top of Harry’s chest where he could both feel and hear Harry’s heart steadily beat inside his chest. He let his eyes fall closed and for a while, that was all he concentrated on.

At some point, Harry’s fingers wound themselves into his hair and he began to gently massage his scalp. Draco let out an appreciative sigh and opening his eyes again, he stared at the television screen. He still wasn’t entirely sure what kind of film Harry was watching but there was a loud bang followed by a large fire and shuddering, Draco closed his eyes again — this wasn’t anything he wanted to watch.

“Are you OK?” Harry asked softly.

“Hm, not my kind of film,” Draco mumbled.

It was only a half-truth.

The sight of large flames still terrified him, more than that even — they almost always transported him right back to the Fiendfyre incident during the Battle of Hogwarts when Crabbe had nearly managed to get them all killed. He shuddered and pushed the memory to the furthest corner of his mind. _That day_ was the last thing he wanted to have on his mind while snuggled up in bed with Harry during a romantic getaway in Paris, the city of love.

“What would you like to watch?”

“Something less violent?”

“No problem.”

Draco opened his eyes again and watched mutely as Harry picked up the remote control and searched through the available programs until he eventually settled on a French film. It had English subtitles but Draco paid them no heed, he understood every word. He let the soft-spoken French words wash over him, closed his eyes, and simply listened — he didn’t need to see the film to imagine the scene, the dialogue was descriptive enough, that was the beauty of the French language. Harry resumed toying with his hair and drifting between wakefulness and very light slumber, Draco gently tugged on his restraints and flexed his fingers.

The restraints were by no means tight and he could easily move his wrists inside the leather cuffs but they did make it impossible for him to freely move his hands and it reminded him that the game wasn’t over and that Harry was still in charge, even though he appeared to be entirely placid at the moment.

However, and Draco knew from experience that no matter how laid-back Harry seemed, it didn’t mean that he wasn’t feeling dominant. That part of him always bubbled just beneath the surface and Draco could practically feel it.

It filled him with excitement and he couldn’t help but wonder what else Harry had in mind — he always had a plan, he just never made revealed it until the very last minute. He shuffled an inch or so closer to Harry and turning his head slightly, he pressed a soft kiss to his warm chest.

In response, Harry’s hand left his hair and Draco felt his fingertips trail up and down the centre of his back, stroking alongside his spine. The light touch tingled a little and he tried to arch away from it, then pushed back into it and exhaled audibly.

“Getting impatient, are we?” Harry teased him.

Draco tilted his head up and caught the devilish smirk that ghosted around the corners of Harry’s mouth and twinkled in his eyes. Harry held his gaze for a moment, then shifted, dislodged his leg and rolling onto his side, he grabbed his hip and squeezed.

Draco’s breathing hitched.

His hip was still a little sore from earlier and a low whine build inside his throat but before it could find his way out into the open, Harry’s lips were on his, kissing him possessively.

He moaned into the kiss and when Harry squeezed his arse, his moan became a whimper — after Harry’s earlier spanking his buttocks felt tender to the touch. Harry really hadn’t held back much and Draco loved and loathed him for it. The sting had been amazing, the lingering throbbing not so much, at least not when Harry insisted on cheekily teasing him there, steadily increasing the throbbing burn in his arse.

Harry appeared to sense this and rubbed over the undoubtedly still slightly reddened skin. His touch reignited the earlier burn even further and caused it to flare out. Despite the soreness of it all, it felt incredibly good and Draco couldn’t help but mewl into the kiss which Harry promptly deepened, claiming his mouth entirely.

Draco didn’t fight it, he simply let it happened and took immense pleasure in the knowledge that he brought out Harry’s possessive side — the one that made Harry want to own him because, in his current state of mind that was exactly want he wanted, it was the only thing he wanted. He wanted Harry to own him, wanted Harry to play with him, lavish all his attention on him, and treat him like he was Harry’s precious bound little prince.

He gave his restraints another tug and Harry responded by firmly gripping and kneading his arse. His fingers slipped into the crack, found the butt plug and pressing against it, he forced it just a little deeper into Draco, then grabbed the end and twisted it around, causing delightful friction around Draco’s sphincter muscles which were still sensitive from the rough fucking Harry had subjected him to earlier.

Draco moaned into the kiss.

He didn’t know whether to attempt to thrust his hips forward to try and rub against Harry or whether to push back an intensify the feeling of the plug inside of him.

Either option was extremely inviting and he was glad when Harry made the decision for him and pushed him onto his back, pressing his bound arms firmly into the mattress as he moved to straddle him. Harry braced himself on one arm, leant forward and hooked a single finger into the O-ring at the front of his collar, drawing Draco’s attention to it.

The collar fitted so comfortably around his neck and felt so good that Draco had all but forgotten about its existence, however, the moment Harry tugged, Draco remembered. He let out a shaky, breathy sigh and stared up at Harry, who wore a positively predatory expression.

It made Draco shudder as mild fire fuelled by intense excitement settled low in the pit of his stomach, causing his body to produce even more hormones that aided his fight or flight response and made him feel entirely on edge for all the right reasons.

“Just what shall I do with you next now that you’ve had your rest, my precious bound little prince, huh?” Harry mused.

He gave the collar yet another tug and Draco tried arching his back but because of the position of his arms, he couldn’t gain proper traction.

“Should I fuck you again? You’re bound to still be all nice and loose for me and what with my come still inside you, I mightn’t even need lube. It’ll be rougher than the first time, of course, because this time I’ll split you apart. Good and proper and just as it should be. Or maybe I’ll ravish that pretty mouth of yours, fuck it wide open and fill it with another load of my come. Would you like that, my pretty little prince?”

Harry’s filthy words filled Draco’s mind with delightful images and he let out a low groan. He wanted Harry to claim him all over again, wanted him to do as he pleased, wanted to be his, completely and entirely and without exceptions.

“As you please, Sir, I’m yours,” he whispered.

“Hm, yes, that goes without saying,” Harry smiled. “I could, of course, also tease you for a bit and _perhaps_ even allow you the pleasure of an orgasm. Hm, yes, I think that’s what I shall do.”

Draco groaned.

He hadn’t given much thought to his own arousal and the fact that he hadn’t come yet — not because he didn’t want to think about it but because thinking about it made him desperate, too desperate, for his release. His cock twitched in anticipation of Harry’s words and he watched and felt him shuffle on the bed.

Harry pushed his legs apart, settled between them and then wandlessly summoned a bottle of lube. He flicked the cap off and wordlessly poured a large amount onto Draco’s cock.

The cool liquid made Draco shiver and he let out a low whine. Draco writhed and nearly jumped off the bed when Harry’s hands closed around his cock and he liberally spread the lube around while he stroked him. His touch was gentle, playful, and not at all satisfying. Draco bit his bottom lip and let out a frustrated growl.

“Don’t tell me you aren’t enjoying this?”

Harry held his gaze and tugged on his cock, teasingly rubbing his thumb around the head while he spoke. It was torture, sweet fucking torture and there was absolutely nothing Draco could do about it.

“This has got to feel good; I know you like this. Tell me, my little prince, do you like it when I touch you like this?”

Draco wanted to scream.

He wanted to curse and tell Harry that he didn’t like this and that he wanted the cock ring gone. He wanted him to know that desperately needed to come but somehow, he had the feeling that Harry already knew all that and more.

Besides, the pleasant sensations that spread from the tip of his cock to his groin and out into the rest of his body made it rather difficult to voice his objections and so he answered with a low whimper that turned into a long drawn-out moan as Harry repeatedly tugged on his cock and gave him an excruciatingly slow hand job.

Harry alternated between massaging his balls, rubbing over them gently, and squeezing and rolling them around in the palm of his hand, then returned to stroking his cock. There were long hard strokes and gentle teasing strokes and all that lube was now warm and Harry’s firm grip repeatedly twisting around his cock felt so good. Draco moaned and writhed, twisted, and turned on the bed. He grabbed two handfuls of the bedsheet, clenched his fingers so tightly around it that he was sure his knuckles had gone white and curled his toes.

“Please.”

“Please _who_?”

“Please, Sir.”

“Please _what_ , Sir?”

“ _Ngh_!”

Draco let out a choked sob and nearly screamed when Harry worked his cock harder, pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

“Please, Sir, I need to come.”

“No, you don’t.”

Harry’s hands left his cock and Draco tilted his head back as far as it would go and howled. His entire body felt like it was on fire and no matter which way he twisted; the feeling only intensified. His cock twitched and he hovered right there on the edge, seconds away from a mind-blowing orgasm, Harry kept deviously denying him. Raw energy rushed through him and he was so high-strung that he really wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to handle what Harry was putting him through, even though they’d only just begun.

He forced himself to breathe deeply and felt the intense urge to come slowly ebb away but was unable to shake off the feeling of desperation completely. Draco took another couple of deep breaths and nearly screamed when Harry’s hands found their way back to his cock and resumed stroking, teasing, rubbing, squeezing.

In almost no time, Draco was right back where he’d just been, floating a stroke away from a toe-curling climax and once again Harry stopped and left him hanging.

Draco writhed and dug his heels firmly into the mattress.

“Please, Sir, please,” he begged. “Please, I need to come, please.”

“Do you?”

“Yes, Sir,” Draco sobbed. “Yes, yes, yes. Please, Sir.”

“No.”

Draco squeezed his eyes firmly shut and fought against the tears but lost the battle and felt them force their way out, wetting his eyelashes and running thickly down his cheeks. His desperation made it nearly impossible to maintain any sort of willpower and he couldn’t believe how quickly Harry had managed to reduce him to a weeping quivering mess.

He wanted to be embarrassed about it, wanted to reprimand himself for his lack of resolve but didn’t have the energy to do so. This felt all sorts of right, he wanted Harry to be in control, he needed this to be on Harry’s terms and he knew that he would get his release eventually. Harry never denied him during a scene but that didn’t make the wait any less excruciating.

Taking several deep breaths, Draco allowed Harry to flip him over and force him onto his knees. He did not resist, it was the last thing he wanted to do, even when Harry pushed his face into the pillow and made it sheer impossible for him to move.

Harry grabbed his arse, squeezed it, then pushed his buttocks apart, spreading him open. Draco moaned and shuddered, then tried to arch his back when Harry repeatedly ran his fingernails down his spine before resting them on top of his lower back and splaying fingers out over the heated sweaty skin of Draco’s body.

“Please, Sir, _please_.”

Draco begged once more — he didn’t care that he sounded desperate, he was. Harry’s low chuckle made him shiver.

Unexpectedly, Harry’s mouth was on him, kissing up along his spine as he moulded himself around him, trapping him in his submissive position. He felt Harry’s teeth sink into his skin and letting out a loud and unrestrained moan, Draco relished in the pain the bite caused. It pulled him further from the edge, though only for a second because Harry’s hand found the plug and twisted and turned it for several agonisingly long minutes before finally pulling it out and discarding it.

A moment later, two of Harry’s fingers were inside him, slowly sliding in and out of him, though the thrusts quickly grew faster and harder. Draco wanted to push into them but couldn’t move. All he could do was take it. Harry bit him again and Draco turned his head and screamed into the pillow. He felt Harry’s hot breath on his neck, felt his teeth, felt him bite for the third time and a strange sort of howl-sob-moan escaped him and refused to fade away even when Harry’s tongue traced the mark and he soothed it with tender licks and tiny kisses.

“Still so wet for me, my little prince. So wet and so loose, you do please me,” Harry whispered into his ear.

Draco nearly choked on his spit as he tried to moan and breathe at the same time. There were too many sensations all at once and he had no hope of keeping on top of them. All he could do was to let them wash over him as he lost himself in his surrender and Harry’s absolute control of him.

“How does it feel to know that I’m using my come to fuck you open?”

Harry continued to be obscenely dirty and his fingers pressed against Draco’s prostate.

All coherent thought instantly left Draco and he suddenly was no longer sure which way was up and which way was down. He felt dizzy and his head spun. He sobbed and moaned and panted and possibly also begged but he couldn’t be sure. Harry fucked him hard, rough, and fast, using only two fingers to split him open and work that bundle of nerves inside of him. It was too much and yet not nearly enough.

By the time, Harry replaced his fingers with his lube-slicken cock, Draco was half delirious and with each thrust, he shamelessly begged for more — that aching longing deep inside of him spread through him and consumed every part of him. Harry thrust harder and faster, gripped his already bruised hips to steady himself and pistoned into him for the second time that day.

He was relentless and through the haze of it all, through the thick tears that insisted on continuing to fall, reducing him to a blubbering wreck, Draco found an entirely different kind of release, the one only Harry could give him. He floated away on a cloud of bliss, drifted off to a different kind of place where time was of no matter and he felt nothing but pure, unadulterated pleasure mixed with the lingering pain of Harry’s earlier spanking and his bites.

The importance of his own release faded into the background, a low buzzing noise that reminded him of his need to come but otherwise, he allowed Harry to have all of him, gave him his body, soul, and heart. Nothing else mattered anymore.

For a second, he wished Harry could tap into his mind, could feel exactly how he felt but a part of him knew it wasn’t necessary.

Harry knew, he always knew. This was why Draco never had any qualms about doing this, about letting go. Harry knew and he took care of him. He always made it good, kept it safe. There was no need for Draco to worry, he could simply let go and drift.

Desperate cries of pleasure and pleas for _more, more, more_ fell from his lips and although they made no sense to Draco’s ears, he hoped that Harry understood, at least on some level.

His whole body tingled and hissed and throbbed and hummed. Feelings of euphoria flooded his mind, spread through him and he heard Harry groan as he continued to fuck him within an inch of his life.

“Mine, mine, mine, you’re all mine, don’t you forget that, my precious bound little prince.”

Harry growled the words and they washed over Draco like an intense aphrodisiac. He felt himself clench around Harry’s cock but had no idea how to control it; his muscles seemingly had a mind of their own.

He felt a stinging blow, sharp and intense, as Harry’s hand connected with his arse and another when the muscles inside his arse clenched again — the lingering thud of the hard smack burned deep into his flesh. He relished in the burn, lost himself in the aftermath of it even, and shamelessly begged for more.

Harry gave it to him and within minutes both his arse cheeks were burning with white-hot intensely pleasurable pain and his brain flooded his body with an avalanche of hormones that pushed him further into this whole other world he always descended into whenever they did this. His whole body went lax beneath Harry and his legs turned to jelly as the bones in his body dissolved into nothing — or so it felt.

Not long after that, Harry let out a nearly guttural growl, buried himself deep inside of him and came, filling him with load after load of hot thick come. Draco took it all and whimpered when Harry pulled out of him but mewled when Harry’s fingers noisily slipped into him and made the most obscene sounds and Harry fucked his sensitive overstimulated hole and spread his own come around the furrowed ring of muscles around his whole.

“Listen to that, my little prince, so full of my come and still eager for more. Fuck, you’re perfect.”

Harry pressed against his prostate, rubbed it with a purpose and Draco twisted his head, buried his face in the pillow and screamed out in pleasure. He felt Harry’s other hand close around his cock, felt the hard strokes and cried out as he surged towards the edge with such ferocious intensity that it was almost painful.

He was vaguely aware of the fact that the cock ring had disappeared and he was literally a second away from coming but the only thing on his mind — it replayed like a broken record, a never-ending mantra of sorts — was that he didn’t have permission to come.

He fought against his orgasm with all his might and inhaling a lungful of air, he turned his head sideways and moaned.

“Please, Sir, please may I come, please. I need to come please.”

He begged for his release and whimpered when Harry remained silent for several moments, forcing him to hold back his orgasm with the very last bit of energy that he had left inside of him.

“Come for me, my little prince, come for me, come now.”

When Harry finally granted him permission, he let go and his climax instantly washed over him. His prostate pulsed from overstimulation and the pressure of Harry’s fingers inside of him, along with his skilled strokes, had Draco shooting rope after rope of thick white liquid. He soiled his thighs, his stomach, Harry’s hand, and probably also the sheets but he didn’t care, he no longer had the energy to do so.

Draco’s mind started a tailspin he didn’t know how to stop and a wretched sob escaped his throat, followed by another and then another and before he knew it, he was crying so hard that he was choking on his own spit and breathing became a chore he didn’t know how to handle. He felt weightless and entirely out of control. His mind had disconnected from his body and through his sobs, he called out to Harry, who responded by tenderly wrapping him into his arms and gently wiping his face with something or other.

“I’ve got you, my love, I’ve got you, you’re safe in my arms.”

Draco didn’t know whatever Harry had used and he didn’t care. All he wanted was for Harry to hold him and continue telling him that he was safe and that everything would be OK. He heard Harry talk, heard him whisper sweet assurances into his hear but failed to make sense of the actual words. Yet, the mere sound of Harry’s voice was enough to fill the empty void in his mind and lure him into a sense of security.

It took forever for his brain to be able to make sense of whatever Harry was telling him and by that time Harry had removed the leather cuffs from around his wrists and gently eased him into a horizontal position. Harry had wrapped his arms and legs around him and a blanket too but Draco still shuddered and shivered.

“Cold,” he managed to say.

In an instant, a gentle warming charm wrapped around his naked form and Harry hugged him tighter as the temperature beneath the blanket rose and Draco’s shivers slowly subsided.

“I’ve got you, my love, you’re safe with me. I’ve got you and I love you and I won’t let you go or leave your side.”

“Harry,” Draco mumbled weakly.

Harry pressed a kiss to his temple.

“Hush, my little prince, rest now. You can tell me later, I’ll be here, I won’t leave you, I promise. You did so fantastically well today, you gave yourself to me completely, you were so good, I’m so proud of you, my sweet little prince. You’re my good boy and I love you so much.”

Draco hummed and let out a low whine. He wanted to say something but the words refused to form and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth which felt too dry. His throat burned and felt like someone had plastered it with sandpaper — it hurt and not in a pleasant way.

“Water,” he croaked.

He didn’t know where the water came from but just a few moments later, Harry gently nudged his lips with a plastic straw and told him to suck. Draco parted his lips and sucked on the straw. Cool refreshing water filled his parched mouth and trickled down his throat as he swallowed slowly. He eagerly drank more and grumbled when Harry moved the straw out of reach.

“Slowly, OK? Or you’ll choke yourself and we can't have that. I'm responsible for you and your safety.”

The reprimand was gentle but Draco and no desire to try and disobey. Whatever Harry said, he was in charge — at least until Draco felt more like himself again.

“Hm.”

Harry let him drink a little more and once he had his fill, Draco slumped back into a horizontal position and felt Harry’s arms close around him once more. He shuffled, buried his face in Harry’s chest and inhaled deeply.

The musky scent of salty sweat, raw sex and the lingering aroma of Harry’s cologne assaulted his sensitive nose and he sighed softly, closed his eyes, and snuggled further into the embrace.

“Sleep, my little prince, don’t fight it, you’ll need the rest,” Harry’s words washed over him with the same intensity as a phial of Dreamless Sleep and within seconds he was gone, fast asleep.

* * *

* * *

Harry crouched down beside the bed and ran his fingers through Draco’s messy hair. It was still somewhat damp and sticky and absolutely needed a proper wash.

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” he said, his voice soft, almost like the sing-song of a bird.

He leant closer, brushed some hair from Draco’s forehead and planted a gentle kiss square in the middle.

It took a few minutes of insistent coaxing before Draco finally woke up. He stretched luxuriously and blinking several times, Harry patiently waited until some of the post-sleep haze had cleared from Draco’s mind and he looked less bleary-eyed and far more alert.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Mr Malfoy.”

Draco grumbled and attempted to bury himself completely underneath the blanket.

“What’s the time?”

The fact that he’d pressed his face into his pillow meant that he sounded muffled. His voice was still a little gruff and Harry made a mental note to ensure that Draco got plenty more fluids into him sooner rather than later.

“About eight,” he replied.

“Can I please sleep all night?”

Draco sounded very whiney and when he poked his head out from underneath the covers he was pouting quite firmly and looking up at Harry from under lowered lashes.

For a moment, Harry nearly caved, then he resolutely shook his head and peeled the blanket back to reveal Draco’s chest and shoulder.

“I’ve run you a bath and dinner’s waiting for us out on the balcony.”

“I’ll eat it tomorrow,” Draco mumbled.

He attempted to turn his back on Harry but Harry was a split-second faster and slipping his hand underneath the blanket, he poked Draco in the side, causing him to let out a high-pitched squeal before glaring icy daggers and squirming away from Harry’s rather cheeky finger.

“You’re mean!”

Draco huffed and rolling onto his back, he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Hm, yes, so very mean, I know. I take you shopping, buy you the best French pastries in all of Paris, give you mind-blowing orgasms, run you a hot bath with essential oils and order the perfect Valentine’s Day dinner — and all that without having been asked to do any of that. I should absolutely be arrested for my meanness.”

“What about not letting me come for ages and spanking my arse raw?”

Draco promptly countered; his eyes gleaming with pure sass. It was the kind that made Harry’s hand itch as he worked out the perfect time to put Draco over his knees and spank him some more — this time perhaps with the use of a toy. He had, after all, brought a few.

Draco rolled onto his side and propping himself up on his elbow, he continued to glower darkly.

Harry laughed heartily.

He leant a little closer and brushed his lips over Draco’s in an almost-kiss, which resulted in a light tremble surging through Draco and pulling away a little, Harry hooked his finger into the O-ring at the front of the precious leather collar, Draco was still wearing. He gave it a gentle tug.

“Funny, you were most receptive earlier and I believe your exact words, repeated numerously were _please, please_ and _more, more_ , peppered with a whole lot of other desperate sounds.”

Draco glowered a little more, then his expression softened a little and Harry resisted poking him again, though he’d been about to.

“Come on, the water is nice and lovely and if you’re going to continue being my good little prince, I’ll even wash your hair,” Harry enticed Draco to crawl out of bed.

His offer had the desired effect and Draco shuffled into a sitting position and stretched his arms out over his head and yawned. Harry caught both of Draco’s arms easily and placing a kiss on the back of each hand, he gently tugged him out of bed.

Draco grumbled a little but followed willingly and together they crossed the room and entered the large steam-filled marble bathroom. The bathtub was full of water and Harry took great pleasure in witnessing Draco’s childish delight, as he seated himself on the broad edge of the tub and dipped his hand into the water.

“It’s perfect,” he said.

Harry smiled.

“Nothing less will do for my little prince,” he said.

He stepped closer and standing in front of Draco, he gently removed the collar from around his neck and placed it on top of the large marble bench near the tub.

“It doesn’t like baths as much as you do.”

“Will you get in with me?”

“Well, I had a shower earlier—”

Harry stopped halfway through saying no to Draco’s request, shrugged, and stripped out of his clothes.

“What the heck,” he said. “Go on, get in, I’ll sit behind you and we can snuggle. Providing you put the collar back on after dinner and stay naked.”

Draco looked at up at him for a moment, then smiled, and nodded.

“Deal, Sir.”

Harry chuckled.

He waited for Draco to get into the tub, then told him to scoot forward and climbed in behind him. He relaxed back, then wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist and pulled him flush against his chest. Draco gave a little surprised yelp but relaxed almost immediately and for a while they simply lay in the tub together, enjoying the hot water and the relaxing but also somewhat invigorating properties of the essential bathing oil, Harry had added to the water.

After a few minutes, he reached for a sponge and soaking it with water, he squeezed it out over Draco’s chest. He repeated the action several times over, then gently began to wash Draco, using the sponge and a citrusy-scented body wash.

Draco let out a soft sigh and relaxed further into his embrace. He spread his legs a little and raised his feet slightly until his toes almost broke the surface of the water. He wriggled them repeatedly, creating little ripples of water and chuckled. Harry kissed the side of his neck and continued to clean every inch of Draco he could comfortably reach.

Eventually, he told him to kneel in the centre of the tub, lean forward a bit, brace himself on the edge and spread his legs a little. He gently pulled Draco’s arse cheeks apart and briefly inspecting his hole, he made sure that there was no tearing or any other damage. It had, after all, seen quite a bit of action today and the least Harry wanted was to cause Draco the kind of discomfort that impacted his health.

A small tremor surged through Draco and he let out a small hiss but stoically allowed Harry to finish checking that he was indeed perfectly alright, then returned to his previous position and Harry reached for a bottle of shampoo to wash Draco’s hair with, although not before pulling him into a fierce kiss that ended with them both being slightly out of breath, Draco more so than Harry.

After washing Draco’s hair, Harry climbed out of the tub and drying himself off with a wandless charm, he quickly put his clothes back on, then helped Draco to get out, wrapped him in the fluffiest bath towel he could find, and gently rubbed him dry.

“You know, I could get used to this kind of treatment,” Draco said with a smile when Harry reached for his collar and hit it with a quick cleaning charm to rid it of some of the perspiration that had undoubtedly soaked into it.

“Only the best for my little prince,” Harry replied.

Draco perched on the edge of the tub and lowering his head a little, he dutifully held still and allowed Harry to fastened the collar around his neck. Harry marvelled at his inclination to continue their little game, even after having already played to his heart’s content.

He ran his fingers through Draco’s slightly damp but clean hair and summoning a smaller towel, he dried as much of it as could and styled it without the use of a comb. Instead, he utilised his fingers — Draco didn’t seem to mind, in fact, he let out an appreciative little mewl and looked up at him through lowered lashes. A sweet smile played around his lips and Harry gently grabbed his chin, placing his thumb and index finger on either side of it while he curled his remaining three fingers into a loose fist and rested them underneath Draco’s chin.

He leant down and kissed him gently.

“Still all mine,” he whispered.

Draco shuddered a little.

“Yes,” he whispered.

Harry smiled.

“Such a good little prince you are, I’m truly going to enjoy eating dinner while you sit across from me naked as the day you were born.”

Draco’s breathing hitched up a notch or two and he parted his lips as if to object but Harry kissed him before he could.

“Nobody can see you on the balcony, just me. You know I’d never share you, you’re all mine, every inch of you. I’ve also put up several charms to ensure that it’s warm and cosy, I won’t allow you to freeze any of your dangly bits off if that’s what you’re worried about.”

This made Draco chuckle softly and pulling him to his feet, Harry pulled the towel away from his hips and ungracefully dropped it onto the floor. He then took Draco’s hand and leading him out of the bathroom, he guided him down the stairs and they exited through the open floor-length double doors that let out onto the balcony, which offered up a magnificently exquisite night-time view of the city of Paris and one of its most prominent sights, the Eiffel Towel.

Room service, who had brought up the food just before Harry had come upstairs to wake Draco up, had already laid out the table. Their dinner, upon which Harry had wisely cast a Stasis Charm to stop it from going cold, was waiting for them.

Walking up to the table, Harry pulled out a chair and offered it to Draco, who quietly took his seat and took the napkin from his plate. He unfolded it, placed it across his lap and folded his hands together, resting them on his napkin-covered thighs. Harry leant over the back of the chair and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek.

“You look gorgeous.”

“I feel silly,” Draco mumbled.

Harry didn’t need to see his face to know that his cheeks had pinked.

“It’s only silly if you think about it, my little prince, to me you look absolutely stunning, I love having you naked.”

His reassurance seemed to help Draco to settle and he relaxed visibly. Harry pressed another kiss to his cheek, then stepped around the table and took his seat across from him, picked up his own napkin and placed it in his lap. Harry picked up his wand, which he’d left on the table and giving it a swoosh, he revealed the starter, six raw fresh oysters with lemon — three for each of them.

Draco’s eyes sparkled and Harry promptly clicked his tongue when he went to reach for one of the oysters. Draco paused and frowned.

“What?”

“Don’t tell me you forgot.”

“Forgot what?”

“Our little agreement. After all, you are wearing your collar.”

Harry smiled and decided that he was being far too benevolent. It would have been so easy to let Draco walk right into that trap and then punish him for it after they’d finished their meal — as per the rules of their agreement Draco had to wait for Harry to start the meal before he could take his first bite. Harry blamed his kindness on the fact that it was Valentine’s Day and they were sharing a romantic meal — albeit with a rather kinky twist — on a private balcony somewhere in Paris.

The realisation almost instantly dawned on Draco and instead of reaching for an oyster, like he’d been about to do, he reached for his glass of water and took a few sips.

“Please, Sir. I’m so hungry,” he said quietly.

Harry decided to put Draco out of his misery and taking an oyster, he sprinkled it with lemon juice and then slurped it all up.

“Bon Appétit, mon petit prince.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Draco’s politeness and the glee with which he consumed his first oyster did funny things to Harry and the butterflies in the pit of his stomach performed a few excited summersaults, while his heart skipped a beat or possibly even two or three. Right this moment he felt on top of the world and he didn’t think that it was possible for him to be any happier — Draco was his and he really hoped that this wasn’t going to change any time soon.

He was sure that he’d found the one person, who, against all odds, completed him in many ways. They complimented each other perfectly and every day with Draco was new and exciting. While he was aware that they were still very much in the honeymoon phase of their relationship, he couldn’t help but think that even ten years down the line things weren’t likely to change much. If anything, and perhaps with a little bit of luck, they would have perfected their little game of power dynamics by then.

Shaking his head, Harry pulled himself out of his thoughts and picked up another oyster. He ate it with much enthusiasm and instead of eating his third, he left that one to Draco.

In return, Draco gave him the sweetest possible smile and Harry’s heart fluttered rather excitedly. He momentarily averted his gaze and looked out over the city of Paris — he suddenly had the rather strong desire to pinch himself lest this was all some wicked dream and none of it was real.

“C’est cela l’amour, tout donner, tout sacrifier sans espoir de retour, Monsieur.”

When Draco unexpectedly addressed him in French, Harry looked back at Draco and smiled.

“Ah, but I want to give you everything and then some,” he said with a somewhat devious wink and Draco flushed. He hastily reached for his glass of water and took several sips.

Harry picked up his wand, swished it and the now empty platter of oysters levitated itself over to the catering cart that stood in the far corner. Instead of the seafood starter, slices of flamiche appeared on their plates. The savoury puff-pastry crust, filled with leeks and cream, looked thoroughly scrumptious and the scent that wafted across the table didn’t only make Harry’s stomach rumble. He hastily reached for a slice and Draco followed suit.

They consumed the dish in silence, not because they didn’t have anything to say but because there was no need to say anything. The food and the atmosphere and the setting spoke volumes and once they’d finished the flamiche, Harry procured two plates of Salade niçoise with a combination of lettuce, fresh tomatoes, boiled eggs, fresh tuna, green beans, Nicoise Cailletier olives and anchovies.

“You are spoiling me,” Draco said with a smile as he reached for his salad fork.

“Hm, yes, that was the general idea when I planned all this.”

“Are you planning to have your wicked way with me later, Sir?”

Harry chuckled.

“That’s for me to know and you to anticipate,” he said.

“You do realise that that’s a yes, don’t you?”

“Possibly.”

“I would say that you’re being infuriatingly annoying but since that’s only going to get me into trouble, I shall refrain.”

“Don’t let me keep you from earning yourself a bit of punishment, my love, I will thoroughly enjoy the feel of my hand repeatedly dance over your arse.”

Harry smiled.

He reached for his own glass of water and leaning back in his comfortable chair, he took a moment to simply look at Draco. He looked stunning with his black leather collar and the shiny silver O-ring at the front. His pale skin stood out beautifully against the dark backdrop of the night sky. The warming charms were holding up beautifully and Harry was glad to note that Draco didn’t appear to be even a little cold. Mid-February was rather nippy and magic was the only reason they were able to sit out here to enjoy their kinky Valentine’s Day meal while Draco was completely naked.

“I think I’ll manage it sooner or later.”

Draco’s response drew a chuckle from the depths of Harry’s chest and sitting forward again, he put his water glass down and resumed eating. He was rather excited about the final course — he’d ordered a chocolate soufflé for dessert for Draco and a Tarte Tatin for himself, though it wasn’t the sweet treat he was excited about but rather the plans he had with it.

It took a while longer for them to finish their salads and afterwards they sat in silence, allowing the three courses, they’d already consumed, to settle for a bit.

Harry levitated two cups of freshly brewed single espressos over to their table and because they weren’t drinking alcohol, they toasted with their coffees, then Harry made a small demand that was important to him.

“I would like for you to empty that glass of water before I bring out dessert, my little prince,” he said and reaching for the carafe of cool lime water, he refilled Draco’s glass.

Draco looked at him for a moment, then gave a simple nod.

“Yes, Sir,” he said softly.

“Such a good boy you are. You’ve not had enough water today and I’m afraid I’ve rather exhausted you over the course of the afternoon and early evening, so you’ve got some catching up to do.”

Draco dutifully complied with his request and over the next ten minutes, he slowly sipped his water, gradually draining his glass. Five minutes after that he shuffled in his seat and politely excused himself for a toilet break.

Harry nodded and while Draco disappeared inside, he moved his chair back a little, removed the napkin from his lap and tossed it onto the table. He crossed his legs, leant back and took his wand. He cleared the table with a single spell. All the empty dishes flew towards the catering cart.

By the time Draco returned, a silver candle holder with four long dark green candles decorated the centre of the table. The plate with the chocolate soufflé stood in front of him and Harry held a single spoon in his hand.

Draco stopped two steps away from the table and Harry smiled.

“I thought you might like a sweet treat,” he said.

Draco’s eyes went straight to the dessert and he licked his lips with the very tip of his tongue.

“I would very much like a sweet treat,” he whispered.

“Hm, look at me then.”

Draco struggled for a moment but eventually, he managed to tear his gaze away from the mouth-watering dessert. He looked at Harry with raw desire shining in his eyes and Harry held out his hand.

“Come here, my precious little prince.”

Draco did not hesitate, he obeyed the command instantly, then hesitantly placed his hand in Harry’s.

Harry squeezed it gently and seeking out Draco’s pulse point, he gently circled his thumb over it. Draco’s breathing almost automatically hitched up a notch or two and he parted his lips.

“Tell me how much you want this dessert,” Harry said, his voice low but firm.

Draco reacted to it in the same way he always did. He hummed softly, licked his lips again, briefly averted his eyes, then looked up to meet Harry’s patient gaze.

“I really want it, Sir, please.”

“Hm, I think you can do better than that, my love. Besides, you’re too good with words. How about you show me instead, huh?”

Draco swallowed hard and shuffled from one foot to the other. Harry could tell that he was a little nervous and confused. He continued to circle his thumb over the pulse point of Draco’s wrist and waited.

“Sir. I’m not sure what you want me to do.”

Draco admitted hesitantly after a while and flushed a rather endearing shade of red. His cheeks and the tips of his ears were pinker than pink and Harry couldn’t help but smile. He absolutely loved it when Draco blushed.

During playtime, he did it often and for various reasons.

Outside of playtime, it was rather difficult to fluster him. Those were the times when he hit behind his sass which was his very own armour of steel. When it was just them, and especially when they indulged in their kinky fantasies, Draco, on his own volition, left that part of him behind and allowed Harry to see a much more vulnerable side of him, one Harry doubted many people had truly seen.

“I think you know,” Harry encouraged but refrained from giving Draco any further clues. He was rather confident that Draco would manage to work it out on his own and he did not disappoint.

A few minutes later, he slowly and gracefully sank to his knees in front of Harry and when Harry let go of Draco’s hand, he instantly moved both of his hands behind his back.

“Perfect, just perfect,” Harry praised.

Draco’s blush intensified and cupping his cheek gently, Harry ran his thumb slowly over his prominent cheekbones, then scooped up a spoonful of the dessert and offered Draco his first bite of the crispy chocolate crust with its oozing, creamy chocolate centre.

“Open up, my gorgeous little prince.”

Draco parted his lips and Harry let him have his dessert. When Draco closed his mouth around the spoon, he let out a tiny approving hum that travelled through the spoon and into Harry’s hand. It surged up his arm and down his spine and pooled low in his groin, fuelling his growing arousal over the fact that he had Draco on his knees, eating the dessert he was feeding him.

It was by no means the first time Harry had fed Draco but that didn’t make the moment any less special.

The dessert was small but Harry deliberately took his time and about halfway through, he turned his chair, so that he was facing Draco and sitting forward he dipped his finger into the chocolate soufflé and smeared the thick liquefied chocolate across Draco’s lips. He then captured them in a deep sensual kiss which he drew out for as long as possible and after pulling away he took a long moment to appreciate Draco’s flushed face and his darkened eyes that were shining with pure want and need and raw desire. His chest rose and fell rapidly and he licked his still wet and slightly parted lips. He looked so utterly perfect that Harry simply wanted to ravish him. His mind was running wild with ideas and all of them appealed but he had enough willpower to resist the temptation on following through, at least for now.

Instead, he finished feeding Draco the dessert and having completely forgotten about his own, he rose to his feet, took both of Draco’s hands and gently tugging on them he enticed him to get to his feet, then pulled him flush against his front and wrapped his arms around Draco’s lithe form.

He used a bit of wandless magic to turn on the stereo inside their spacious living quarters and the soft melody of a tender love song drifted through the open windows and filled their ears.

“Dance with me, my little prince.”

Draco chuckled into his neck.

“You’re really going all out tonight, Sir, yet I’m already yours.”

“That doesn’t give me the right to take you for granted and forgo the wooing, my little prince,” Harry said and with those words he spun Draco around the balcony, causing him to yelp.

“It’s a ballad, Potter, not an up-tempo pop tune,” Draco protested.

This time it was Harry’s turn to chuckle.

“Ah, I know, but tonight I make the rules.”

Draco rolled his eyes at him and Harry clicked his tongue. He, however, made no actual attempt to call Draco out on his brass — he liked it, even when they played. It added a little spice. Besides, if he’d wanted the perfect slave, a goldfish would have been a more ideal acquisition.

They danced for a while longer but eventually the music faded and instead soft piano music drifted out to them. Harry guided Draco over to the railing and standing behind him, he hugged him tight and rested his chin on Draco’s shoulder. Draco’s hands rested on top of the stone pillar in front of him and for a while they stood in amiable silence, each lost in their own thoughts and rather mesmerised by the imposing view that sprawled out in front of them. Paris truly was a magnificent city.

Eventually, though, Harry broke the silence and pressing his mouth to Draco’s ear, he kissed the shell of it and exhaled softly.

“Would you like another gift?” he offered.

Draco nodded first then a whispered _yes, please, Sir_ fell from his lips.

Harry wandlessly accio’ed a rather special toy and catching it with ease, he placed the flogger on top of the stone pillar in front of Draco, whose immediate reaction was a sharp intake of breath, then a rather intense tremor surged through him. Harry knew that Draco’s response wasn’t simple excitement but rather a healthy dose of fear and Harry instinctively took one of Draco’s hands and squeezed it.

“Close for eyes for me for a moment,” he whispered.

“Harry, I— I don’t think I’m ready—” Draco said, his voice shaky and filled with trepidation.

“You are more than ready but I promise you I won’t use it on you until I have your explicit approval. For now, just close your eyes, won’t you?”

Draco hesitated for another moment or two, then did as told and Harry gently guided his hand to the flogger.

“Keep your eyes closed, my little prince. I want you to just listen and feel, not look.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good boy,” Harry praised. “Now, feel this, it’s a soft leather wrist strap. It goes around my wrist and lets me hold the flogger securely. This one is my absolute favourite.”

Harry allowed Draco to explore the butt, leather-wrapped handle and neck of the flogger but didn’t allow him to feel the falls just yet. The reason he had quite the penchant for this flogger was that it was custom-made and he’d had it balanced to ensure he’d be able to use it for hours without putting considerable stress and fatigue on his wrist.

“How does it feel so far?” he asked softly.

Draco let out a low audible breath before answering.

“Good.”

Harry smiled.

“This is the end of the flogger I like best,” he said, then paused to guide Draco’s hand to the falls, allowing him to twist his fingers into it. “This here is the part of the flogger I hope you’ll like best. I don’t want to use this to punish you, never that, or at least not until you're ready for that kind of intensity. All I want is to use it to give you pleasure, a lot of pleasure, and maybe also a tiny little bit of pain but it won't be anything you can't take.”

“It’ll hurt.”

Draco remained apprehensive.

“Hm, yes, but it’ll be the sweetest pain, I promise.”

He could tell that Draco would need a little more convincing and to do so, he offered a little bit more information about the toy. He was also in no rush to move things along and entirely happy to allow things to proceed at Draco’s pace. He was, after all, the star of the show. Without him and his consent, nothing would ever happen.

“These falls are mostly made of suede. As you can feel, it’s soft and very flexible. When it hits the skin, it leaves a lovely thud mixed with just a little sting. However, this isn’t a pure suede flogger. Some of these falls, feel them, yes, just like that, they are a little more firm to the touch. These falls are made from oiled leather and if you run your fingers over it, like so, you can feel it’s quite stiff. This will deliver a nice sting to add to the thud of the suede. It’s an absolutely divine sensation.”

A long moment of silence passed between them during which Harry allowed Draco to continue exploring every inch of the flogger with his fingers, familiarising himself with the feel and the texture as well as the weight of the handle, the falls, and eventually the whole thing.

Once he stilled his hands and rested them on top of the pillar, Harry picked up the flogger and slid his hand through the wrist strap, then gripped the handle. He adjusted his grip a few times and once he was happy with it, he gently ran the falls over the back of Draco’s hands and up along his arms.

Draco shivered but made no attempt to stop proceedings. Harry took that as good sign and continued to tease Draco with the falls, running them up and down his arms. He alternated between his left and right arm but did so randomly and without rhyme or reason. After a while, he ran the falls along Draco’s shoulders and down his chest. He teased Draco’s thighs with them and even used them to tickle his half-erect cock which resulted in Draco letting out a low moan.

“You like that, don’t you, my little prince?” Harry whispered and Draco let out yet another low moan that turned into a mewl when Harry very gently brushed the falls along the inside of Draco’s slightly spread thighs.

A soft mewl escaped Draco’s lips and Harry smiled against his ear and nibbled on his earlobe. He ran the neck of the flogger up Draco’s stomach, over his navel and up to his nipples which he teased thoroughly. He didn’t stop until they’d turned into hard little nubs.

“Feels good, doesn’t it, my little prince?” he prompted again.

“Yes, Sir.”

Draco’s response was shaky and he sounded a little breathless. Harry splayed the fingers of his free hand out over Draco’s stomach, circled his navel, then let his hand drop lower. He rubbed the palm of his hand along Draco’s cock and felt it respond to his touch. It twitched and pulsed a little and Harry rubbed a little more insistently, all while he continued to tease Draco’s legs with the flogger’s falls.

It took practically no effort at all to turn Draco into a quivering, keening wreck and before long, he was trying to thrust into Harry’s hand to get more friction but each time he did, Harry stilled his hand and clicked his tongue. It was a gentle reprimand but it had the desired effect and Draco quickly learnt that he wasn’t meant to move his hips. The realisation of that resulted in a whiny little moan slipping from his lips and Harry circled his thumb around the head of his now fully erect cock, teasing him mercilessly.

“Please, Sir.”

Draco whimpered and the soft plea fell from his lips. It was music to Harry’s ears — he’d been waiting for exactly that.

“Please, _what_?” he asked. “What is it you need, my little prince?”

“Please more.”

“More what, my love? You’re awfully unspecific, I’m afraid I don’t at all know what it is you need.”

That wasn’t strictly true. Harry had a pretty good idea what it was that Draco wanted but he wanted to hear him say it and before he gave him what he’d now started to crave. Until he did, Harry had no intention of giving in to Draco’s little pleas.

“Sir, please.”

“You can beg all you want but you’ll have to tell me what it is you want.”

Draco let out an exasperated little groan of frustration and Harry bit his earlobe hard enough to cause a nice little sting.

“What do you want, my little prince?” he insisted. “You know I’ll never deny you any of your wishes, as long as they are within reason. All I expect is that you tell me,” Harry encouraged.

He continued to slowly stroke Draco’s cock and tease him with the flogger.

It took several minutes before Draco worked up the courage to put whatever was going on in his mind into words and when he did, Harry only barely managed to suppress a triumphant grin.

“Please, Sir, I want to try.”

“Try what exactly?”

Harry purposefully drew out the exquisite torture. This time, instead of using his words, Draco simply showed him. His hand moved to rest above Harry’s and he squeezed gently. Harry stilled the movement of the flogger.

“Please, Sir,” he whispered.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Sir, just please,” Draco begged.

Smiling softly, Harry withdrew a little and adjusted Draco’s stance. He made him hold on to the railing on either side of the stone pillar, then got to him lean forward while pushing his arse back and spreading his legs. Draco lowered his head so that he was looking at the ground, though Harry was sure that he hadn’t opened his eyes. He adjusted his hold on the flogger’s handle a little, then let the neck and the falls run down Draco’s spine. It resulted in him arching his back quite beautifully and letting out a series of rather pleasant low moans.

Harry repeated the action several times, then teased the falls over Draco’s pale buttocks. The redness from his earlier spanking had faded away in the hot bath and Harry was eager to leave a fresh set of marks. He ran the flogger’s combination of suede and oiled leather falls repeatedly over Draco’s arse and the back of his thighs.

“How do you like this, my little prince?” he asked.

“Don’t stop,” Draco replied breathlessly.

“Ask nicely.”

“Please, Sir, don’t stop, please.”

“That’s more like it. Now, let’s see how you feel about a slightly rougher approach.”

A tremor surged through Draco but Harry made no attempt at delivering the first strike. He wanted Draco’s anticipation to grow to the point where he asked for it and less than five minutes later, he got his wish.

“Sir, please, just do it.”

“Do what?”

“Please flog me.”

Harry smiled.

If anyone had told him a year ago that Draco would one day say these words to him, he’d have hexed them immediately — now, however, he couldn’t resist the temptation to smile broadly. He lifted the flogger off Draco’s arse, gripped the handle a little more tightly and delivered the first blow.

It wasn’t an especially hard blow but it was enough to capture Draco’s attention and make him focus on one thing and one thing only. He let out a shaky sort of sigh-moan and Harry delivered another blow and then another and finally a fourth and just for good measure a fifth. He used only a little force and Harry knew that the impact of the blows was teasing, perfect for a slow buildup.

Each time the falls connected with his arse, Draco let out a gasp and a tremor surged through him.

“Want more?” Harry asked.

“Yes, please, Sir,” Draco breathed.

Harry delivered another five blows, this time to the back of Draco’s thighs, then he asked whether Draco wanted more and when he replied in the affirmative, Harry gave him five more blows, this time to his arse.

He played a lazy game of back and forth with Draco until he was moaning almost continuously and repeatedly pleading for _more, harder, please_. Harry slightly increased the intensity but the impact of his blows was still gentler than when he’d spanked Draco. He deliberately kept things playful, for one because he was in no rush but also because he wanted to draw things out. He was thoroughly enjoying himself and by the sounds of it so was Draco.

After a while, Harry increased the intensity a little more and this time Draco’s repeated moans turned into low groans. The thud and the sting had gotten stronger and Harry delighted in the pink flush that now covered Draco’s arse and the back of his thighs. He gave him a small break of about a minute or so, then delivered the hardest blow yet. Draco cried out, arched his back, and gripped the railing tightly. He panted and his entire body shivered as he tried to breathe through the pain.

Harry gave him plenty of time to do so and once he was sure that Draco was ready, he delivered two rather firm blows in rapid succession. Draco groaned and arched his back again, then let out a strange little sob-cry. Harry stopped once more and running the flat of his hand up and down Draco’s back, he soothed him, then leant over him and pressed his lips to his ear.

“Still OK?” he asked.

Draco sucked in a sharp breath, then answered.

“Yes, Sir.”

“How does it feel?”

“It hurts, Sir.”

“Badly?”

“No, Sir.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Harry smiled but said nothing further, instead, he continued running his hands up and down Draco’s spine for another minute or so, then he delivered another three blows.

Draco panted through the first one, groaned at the second one and when the third blow landed, he let out a strangled sort of sob. Harry slowly counted to ten, then delivered two more blows. He kept alternating between Draco’s left buttock and his right as well as the back of his thighs though he made sure to change his target at random.

As a result, Draco could only mentally prepare himself for the actual blow but not the location. It made it that little bit more intense and special.

Harry continued for a little while longer, then stopped to rub his hand over Draco’s back. His arse and the back of his thighs were glowing red and gently trailing his fingers over the hot, throbbing skin, he drew several low whimpers from Draco, who hadn’t at all been prepared for the sudden but gentle touch.

“I bet it feels glorious, doesn’t it, my little prince?”

“Yes, Sir,” Draco breathed.

“It looks stunningly beautiful, my love. I do so enjoy turning your arse red and tonight I have the added benefit of also turning the back of your thighs a delightful shade of red. Fuck, you look absolutely divine, I could eat you right up.”

“ _Ngh_ , Sir, please,” Draco mewled and Harry chuckled.

He delivered a series of blows for another fifteen minutes or so, though each blow varied in intensity and location and in-between blows, he ran the falls over the reddened skin, drawing out the most recent thud and sting and prolonging the sweet burning sensation.

Draco made utterly delightful sounds and Harry didn’t hesitate to tell him so. He also repeatedly told him that he looked beautiful and that he was utterly perfect. The words had a profound impact on Draco and by the time Harry finally put the flogger down and drew Draco into his arms to hug him close, his little prince was sobbing quietly, though not because Harry had taken it too far or because the pain was overwhelming but because Harry had gently pushed him past his boundaries and had taught him to enjoy something Draco had previously said he couldn’t see himself enjoying.

“Yes, that’s it, my sweet little prince, just let it all out, don’t hold back. Let it all go, I’ve got you and I won’t let you fall, I’m right here with you, always, you know that.”

“Harry.”

An almost inaudible plea slipped past Draco’s lips and Harry tightened his hold on him. He held him that little bit tighter and hugged him that little bit closer.

It took several long minutes for Draco to calm down and even once he had, he did not lift his head but instead firmly buried his tear-stained face in Harry’s neck and sniffed.

“You are so adorable, do you know that, my little prince?”

Harry chuckled softly — he loved being able to tell Draco that he was adorable but knew that the only reason he was getting away with it was that Draco was floating around another world and didn’t mind his excessive use of pet names and praise.

Ordinarily, Draco very much minded and it was that very contrast that Harry loved. The ferocity Draco showed when they didn’t play and the vulnerability he showed when they did — it was positively exquisite.

He ran his fingers slowly and gently up and down Draco’s back and haphazardly flicked his hand into the direction of the candleholder on the table to extinguish the candles.

“Come on, my love, I’ll take you upstairs and we’ll put some Aloe on that absolutely perfect behind of yours. I might even kiss it a few times if you’re lucky.”

When Draco still made no move to extract himself from his embrace, Harry steadied his stance, and picking Draco up he simultaneously cast a lightening charm on him, threw him over his shoulder — much, and in the same manner, like he always did when he horsed around with Teddy — and grabbing his wand, he entirely ignored Draco’s sudden but rather vocal protests.

Instead, he carried him up the stairs, gently deposited him on their bed but made sure that Draco was lying down on his front.

He retrieved some Aloe from his suitcase and unscrewing the lid, he first covered Draco’s buttocks and the back of his thighs with a million tiny kisses, then used a liberal amount of Aloe to cool the burn and ease the lingering stinging sensations.

Afterwards, he stripped down to his boxer briefs, crawled into bed beside Draco and pulled him into his arms. He dimmed the lights, ran his fingers gently up and down Draco’s back and for several minutes they lay in comfortable silence. Draco had curled up into a tiny ball and had snuggled close so close that it felt a bit like he was afraid Harry planned to leave him.

“Harry?”

Draco suddenly broke the silence.

“Hm?”

Harry responded and remembering the collar, he unfastened the clasp at the back with one deft hand and relieved Draco of it.

“Thank you.”

Harry chuckled softly.

“For what exactly?”

 “For everything. Today was perfect, everything about it was utterly perfect.”

 “And you haven’t even seen the twelve dozen roses I ordered for you.”

 Draco raised his head a little and stared at him.

“Please tell me you are joking.”

Harry kept his poker face in place for several moments then succumbed to the urge to laugh.

“Yes, but fuck your face, that look was priceless.”

“Idiot.”

Draco grumbled and but lowered his head again and snuggled an impossible inch closer.

“I think I took that collar off a little too early.”

“Did not.”

“I so did. You’re a sassy little brat.”

Draco hummed.

“You love me though.”

Harry chuckled.

“Yes, I do. I absolutely love you, I love you very much. Your sass is delightful.”

“Then don’t always say you want to punish me for it.”

“Ah but I do, I really do want to punish you for it. But I can most definitely promise you that, for as long as you don’t take it too far, your punishment will always be the kind of punishment we’ll both enjoy.”

“I do like the sound of that promise. Although, I hope you realise that it’s the perfect incentive for me to keep being a delightful pain in your arse.”

Harry laughed.

“Oh, _sweetheart_ , you won’t ever be a pain in my arse, you don’t have the right. I, however, will take absolute pleasure it wrecking your arse and your hole whenever it pleases me to do so.”

Draco mumbled something incomprehensible and Harry hugged him tighter and ran his fingers through his silky soft hair.

“I love you, my little prince.”

“I love you too, Sir.”

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're interested in learning a little more about flogging and the different techniques, I would like to share two links with you: 
> 
> 1) ["What Is Flogging?"](https://www.lovense.com/bdsm-blog/what-is-flogging)  
> 2) ["Flogging - A sub's Perspective"](https://submissiveguide.com/fundamentals/articles/perspectives-flogging)  
> Depending on the skill of the Dominant and the material used to make the flogger, the pain can be minimal and it can be a quite sensual experience. Or it can be painful as hell, or even therapeutic, or a beautiful mixture between pain and pleasure. The options are endless, all that is required is the right flogger, a bit of skill (and of course practice) and creativity. A truly beautiful way to spice up your relationship and I'm glad that Harry gave Draco the opportunity to explore something new and that Draco consented to it.


	60. The Bet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, hello there!
> 
> Yesterday was busy and tiring, today will be the same but I'm taking the time to post this before I leave for the gym ( _and enter the witness protection program because by the time you finish reading this chapter you will, undoubtedly, want to murder me_ ).
> 
> Love,  
> Selly x

* * *

Harry wrapped his arms low around Draco’s waist and pulled him flush against his front. He held on tightly and relished in the way Draco tensed for a moment, then fully relaxed into his embrace, completely surrendering to it. He pressed a gentle kiss to Draco’s long neck, placed it just above the thin leather collar, he’d given Draco for tonight, and then another a little higher and a third just below Draco’s earlobe.

Draco shuddered; he tilted his head slightly to the other side to give Harry better access and without the slightest bit of hesitation, Harry made full use of it. He trailed a series of tiny kisses along the side of Draco’s neck, nibbled on his earlobe and sucking it into his mouth, he flicked his tongue over it and drew a tiny, barely audible whimper out of Draco — it was a delectable sound; Draco sounded sweet, needy and hungry for more.

“Sir, with all due respect, but you’re making me horny.”

Harry pressed his face into Draco’s neck and chuckled.

He peppered the soft warm skin beneath his lips with a few more kisses, then spoke directly into Draco’s ear.

His voice was low and warm and he could tell that his words weren’t the only thing that made Draco shiver in his embrace; his hot breath, ghosting over and teasing along the sensitive shell of Draco’s ear, very much helped.

Oh, it was so frightfully easy to make Draco come undone and Harry loved every second of it.

“That’s the intention, my little prince. You’re _mine_.”

With those words, whispered for Draco’s ears and his ears alone, Harry hugged Draco just that little bit tighter. He was thankful that they were standing in a rather secluded part of the room and that it was quite dark around them.

The event was in full swing and pretty much everybody was focusing on what was happening on stage — Harry was too, albeit only with half an eye. He was thoroughly enjoying the Shibari demonstration in the centre of the club’s largest private room’s play space.

The dungeon monitors had cleared away all the BDSM furniture, except for an elaborate suspension device, to allow Rope Master Saito and his models to freely move across the stage.

The presentation was impressive, the execution flawless and the knots astonishingly beautiful but Harry was far more interested in Draco and so he let his hand slip down to Draco’s groin and cupped his growing erection which he gently squeezed and massaged through the fabric of his neat black chinos.

“ _Mine_ , all _mine_. Every inch of you belongs to me.”

“ _Ngh_ , Sir!”

Draco trembled in his embrace.

“You stunning creature, you. I want to bind you in ropes so tight you won’t be able to wriggle a single toe. You’re mine, _mine_.”

“Salazar, Harry, please.”

Harry growled possessively and squeezed Draco’s cock harder. He rubbed his palm against it more insistently and for a moment he felt the strong urge to cast a subtle spell that would intensify the sensations of his touch but at hearing Draco’s whimper and his desperate plea, he decided that it wasn’t at all necessary.

“You’ll make me come, Sir.”

Harry felt Draco grasp his forearm firmly and with both hands.

In a rather pathetic attempt to ground himself — pathetic because it didn’t matter what he did, Harry always knew how to make him fall apart — he squeezed tightly.

Harry pressed another kiss to Draco’s neck and lingering there he nibbled at the sensitive skin. With the very intention of leaving an obvious love bite, Harry sucked the warm flesh into his mouth and bit into it, causing Draco to buck his hips, thrusting his erection straight into the palm of his hand.

“So, if I keep doing this, I’ll make you come, is that right?”

Harry exhaled slowly, blowing his warm breath all over Draco’s ear. He took immense pleasure in the resulting tremor that surged through Draco, giving evidence to the level of his excitement.

Draco’s cock responded to his every touch. It filled just a little more and he could feel it pulse and twitch against the palm of his hand. Harry gave it a little squeeze and Draco finally answered him, though his response was more of a breathless whisper. It most definitely wasn’t the reaction of a person who was still in full possession of all his faculties.

“Yes, Sir.”

Harry could tell that Draco only barely managed to suppress the moan that persistently attempted to force its way past his lips and his own body responded to Draco’s willing and public submission. There was just something insanely hot about getting a little kinky with Draco in the middle of a crowd and the fact that Draco let him do this to him turned him on even more.

The knowledge that someone might turn around and see them both indulge in a bit of clothed dominance and submission positively thrilled Harry and judging by how receptive Draco was to it, he had absolutely no qualms about Harry driving him to the brink of madness.

“Hm, interesting, very interesting. Just to clarify, do you have permission to come, my little prince?”

Draco’s answer to that question was a half-whimper, one he hadn’t quite managed to quell and his grip on Harry’s forearm tightened considerably.

“No, Sir.”

“I thought so. See, you have no need to be worried about coming. You don’t have permission and since you’re my good boy, I know you will obey the rules. Unless, of course, you’d like for your behind to get intimately acquainted with a riding crop. Do you want that?”

Draco shuddered.

“No, Sir.”

“Hm, yes, you don’t like that one very much, do you? Though I really don’t know why, it stings so nicely, such a nice sharp thud followed by an intense burning sting.”

“ _Ngh_ , Sir, _please_.”

“Are you changing your mind, my little prince?”

“No, Sir.”

Harry chuckled softly.

“That’s alright, I can always use my hand, can’t I?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And you know I will, just as soon as I get you home. I’ll have you strip for me and then you’ll be a very good boy, won’t you? I won’t have to bend you over my knees because you’ll do it without me demanding it. You’ll bend over and let me spank that gorgeous arse of yours, isn’t that so, my pretty little prince? You’ll let me spank it until its gleaming red and the sting all-consuming.”

Draco gave a low whine.

“Yes, Sir.”

“I do love it when you’re being so good for me. Tell me, shall we up the stakes a little? I’ve got a dare for you if you’re up for it?”

“ _Ngh_ , fu— yes, Sir.”

“So eager to please me, aren’t you, my perfect little prince?”

Draco whimpered and Harry told him to turn around in his arms.

Once he had done so, Harry gently cupped Draco’s face with his hands and drew him in for a deep kiss. He really went for it and by the time he pulled away, Draco’s lips were swollen and glistening with a mix of both his and Draco’s saliva.

Draco’s lips were slightly parted and he was trying his very best to regulate his breathing though he wasn’t entirely successful.

Harry moved his hands to Draco’s shoulders, then let them slip down Draco’s back until he reached his firm buttocks. He gave each one a firm squeeze and when Draco let out a small yelp, Harry hastily swallowed it with another kiss.

He kept one hand resting on Draco’s arse and brought the other up to hook his index finger into the silver ring at the front of Draco’s collar. He gave it a little tug, and breaking away from the kiss, he pressed his lips to Draco’s ear.

“Listen closely, my precious little prince. These are my instructions for you and I want you to adhere to them carefully. I want you to go down the hall to the men’s bathrooms and find an empty stall. Go inside, close the door behind you and lean back against it. I want you to close your eyes, undo your trousers, wrap your hand around that gorgeous hard cock of yours and stroke yourself, slowly. There’s a phial of lube in the pocket of your jacket, I just put it there. Use it. Pleasure yourself, bring yourself right to the edge, then stop. Do it three times, then come back to me. You’re not allowed to come, if you do, I’ll know and we’ll have to have a very serious talk about it. If you’re getting too close, too hot, or too bothered, pace yourself. I’m not giving you a time limit but if you’re not back in half an hour I will come looking for you just to make sure that everything is OK and you’re all right.”

Harry pulled back and looked at Draco, who stared at him with a completely incredulous expression. His mouth hung open and his breathing was ragged. His eyes were wide open and his pupils were dilated.

Harry smiled.

Draco was a precious sight when he was all hot and bothered, clinging to the edge of a sure-fire descent into the world of madness, a madness brought on by intense desire and the unquenchable craving to comply with Harry’s orders. He wanted to play the game, that much was clear to Harry, but he did know that he’d never before been quite this bold with his dirty little requests whenever they were in public and he was in the mood to tease Draco until he’d reached the end of his tethers and succumbed in his arms, a needy, whiny, submissive mess.

He let go of Draco’s collar, placed his finger underneath his chin and pushed it up, effectively closing his mouth. He gently cupped Draco’s cheek and caressed it with his thumb.

“You can say no, you know that.”

Draco nodded mutely, then swallowed hard.

His flushed face and the desirous look in his silvery-grey eyes told Harry that he was excited but he also looked hesitant — Harry could tell that it wasn’t because he didn’t want to obey but because he was, perhaps, just a little scared of being so naughty in such a public place, even though Harry wasn’t asking him to engage in public acts of nudity or demanded for them to have sex where just about anyone could see them.

“One word, Draco, that’s all it takes. You know you’ll never offend me but I need you to make up your mind. The choice is yours, you have that power, my love.” 

Harry reminded Draco that he could use his safeword and smiling warmly, he continued to caress Draco’s cheek, then leant in and kissed him, gently, slowly, softly, sweetly.

It was a kiss filled with reassurance — no judgement if Draco chose to safeword, _never that_ — love and understanding and just a little bit of encouragement, in case he was trying to jump over his own shadow and needed a small push into the right direction.

When he pulled away, Draco blinked, swallowed, then licked his lips to hydrate them a little more. It wasn’t necessary but it was just one of those things Draco did and Harry found it endearing.

“Yes, Sir.”

He whispered the words so softly that Harry barely heard them over the background music in the room, even though the music was low — for safety reasons, this was, after all, a BDSM club and not a dance club.

Harry smiled.

Secretly, he wanted to puff up his chest with the pride over Draco’s bold decision. It was yet another step into the right direction, the direction that would continue to help him discover his submissive side and give him the opportunity to decide what he liked and what he disliked — for those things to become clear, or clearer, he sometimes needed Harry to push his boundaries ever so subtly.

“May I be excused, Sir?”

“You may.”

Draco nodded in response and when Harry let go of him, he turned on his heel and headed for the open door to the private function room. Harry watched him exit through it and turn left.

A moment later, he was out of sight and Harry found himself distracted when Charlie appeared in front of him.

“Having fun?” he asked with a big cheeky grin.

Harry smirked.

“Absolutely.”

“I can tell you aren’t especially interested in the demonstrations tonight. Normally you can’t take your eyes off the performance and you won’t let anybody talk to you until it’s over.”

Harry responded with an eyeroll.

Charlie chuckled and patted him on the shoulder, then leant in.

“Listen, Harry, mate, Caleb and I have a bit of a bet going and since you and I are family, you’re going to help me win it, won’t you?”

He pulled away again and tilting his head slightly to the side, Harry pressed his lips tightly together and raised one eyebrow at Charlie.

“What utter nonsense are you two gobshites up to now?”

“Just a friendly little wager between old friends, surely _you_ won’t mind.”

Harry sighed.

“Let me guess, it’s about Draco and me?”

“You always were the smart one in the family. Well, there’s my ickle brother’s wife, of course, but she’s a different kind of smart. I don’t think any of us will ever be able to match her. Besides, she married into the family, Mum adopted you, so, that’s different.”

Harry wanted to tell Charlie that he was sure that Draco most definitely could match Hermione’s intellect but he refrained from doing so. For the moment, he was a lot more interested in whatever stupid bet Charlie and Caleb had made now — if one left those two alone without adult supervision for longer than five minutes, well, it was a recipe for disaster, an explosion waiting to happen.

“What’s this idiotic bet you’ve made?”

“We were just wondering how long it will take for you to cave in and have your wicked way with your gorgeous boy. Caleb thinks you’re going to take him to one of the dungeon rooms and shag him six ways to Sunday. I think you’ll take him home, tie him up, maybe spank him a bit, then have your wicked way with him.”

Harry very slowly crossed his arms in front of his chest and glowered at Charlie.

He wasn’t angry at either Charlie or Caleb but he couldn’t resist giving them a little bit of stick for their childish behaviour.

They were supposed to be adults and respectable mentors but when they were in the same room together that somehow was never the case. Instead, they talked nonsense, spent their time making silly jokes and stupid bets, and just generally acted like they had yet to graduate from high school. It was an endearing testament to their close-knitted bond but sometimes, just sometimes, Harry wanted to knock their heads together.

“I swear, the two of you sober is even worse than the two of you drunk,” Harry said.

He tried his hardest not to remember that one time a few years ago when he’d gone out drinking with both Charlie and Caleb. They’d all gotten completely and utterly drunk — Charlie and Caleb more so than him — and it was a miracle that Harry even remembered that that night had really happened because to this day he could not recall how he’d managed to get himself home. He suspected that either Charlie or Caleb had something to do with it but after fruitlessly trying to get any information out of them, he’d eventually given up attempting to satisfy his burning curiosity.

That night, they’d gotten up to a lot of stupid stuff and although none of it had been sexual or even kinky, Harry still cringed at the memory of it and he quite often wished he’d had just a little more to drink. Just enough to ensure the part of his brain that was responsible for remembering stuff, was temporarily out of order.

“So, Potter, has your precious prosecutor boy gone to get you both a room?” Caleb asked flippantly as he joined them both and handed them an alcohol-free, sugar-free drink each.

Harry uncrossed his arms, accepted his drink and taking a small sip, he rolled his eyes at Caleb.

“I’m not answering that, Reid.” 

“That’s a resounding _yes_ , then.”

Caleb laughed triumphantly and his eyes gleamed with excitement.

“Fork it over already, Weasley. That fifty-pound note is mine.”

“Draco’s not gone off to get us a room and I have no intention of taking my liberties with him in one of the dungeon rooms downstairs. And why would I when I’ve got a perfectly good playroom at home?” 

“Hm, looks like I’m keeping my cash, Reid, but not to worry, I’ll fund your taxi home tonight. When exactly will you be heading home to lick your wounds and wallow in self-pity over losing our little wager?”

Charlie grinned and bumped Caleb’s rather prominent biceps with his fist.

Caleb ignored him and turned his full attention on Harry.

“Where’s your pretty boy gone off to then?”

“Gee, would you stop sticking your nose into things that are none of your concern already, Reid. If you absolutely must know, he’s gone to the loo to have a piss. Human nature and all that,” Harry replied with a bored undertone as he lied straight through his teeth. 

“Likely story. The kind of human nature we observed from over there didn’t appear to be the _excuse me, Sir, may I go and take a leak_ kind,” Caleb retorted with a positively sly grin.

His smirk was the kind that made Harry want to punch him and although he never did, he occasionally allowed himself to entertain the possibility of what it might feel like to get a bit physical with Caleb.

Harry decided — probably for the millionth time at this stage — that it was a right shame Caleb hadn’t been born a wizard, he’d have felt right at home in Slytherin. He glanced at Charlie and they exchanged a knowing smile — Harry didn’t need to hear his friend and honorary brother say the words to know that he agreed and he suspected that it was for this very reason that Caleb and Draco always squabbled. Had Caleb been born a wizard, the Sorting Hat would have, quite undoubtedly so, sorted him into Slytherin and he and Draco would have ended up being best friends right off the bat.

“What did it look like then?” Harry asked.

Harry was one hundred per cent sure that he did not want to know the answer to that question and mentally slapped himself for asking it in the first place. No good was bound to come from it and when Caleb answered his question, he instantly confirmed Harry’s suspicions and he sighed.

“It looked a lot like the _excuse me, Sir, may I please go and have a furious wank_ kind of human nature.”

Charlie, who’d been about to take a sip from his drink, snorted but remained silent.

Harry glared first at him, then at Caleb.

“Perhaps you’re right, Reid, only there is a small flaw to your epic Sherlockian deduction.”

“Oh?”

Caleb raised a curious eyebrow at him and Harry smiled triumphantly.

He took a sip from his drink, boldly held Caleb’s gaze for several moments, and then smirked devilishly as his devious thought finished forming in his head.

“You entirely missed the fact that my precious prosecutor boy, your words, not mine, is wearing _my_ collar. I’ve yet to come across a D/s agreement that doesn’t stipulate some form of orgasm control, so, please do tell me why in my right mind would I allow my sub to have a wank after teasing him for a measly five minutes? How utterly vanilla. Nah, Reid, Draco and I are a bit above that. We play by tougher rules, though fair play to you if you’re a big softie. I’m sure you give in the moment Stefan pouts at you and says _please, Daddy, please_.”

Caleb opened his mouth, undoubtedly to make some sort of sarcastic remark, because he really did have the skin of an elephant and it took a whole lot more than a bit of good-natured teasing to rub him up the wrong, however, before he could actually say something Charlie burst out laughing.

It was a proper loud belly laugh and he quickly clamped his free hand over his mouth to muffle the sound of his laughter so as not to disturb those people who wanted to see the Shibari demonstrations and possibly also learn something.

One of the nearby dungeon monitors threw them a warning glare and reacting quickly, Harry wrapped one arm around Caleb’s shoulder and the other around Charlie’s shoulder and dragged them both further away from the play space.

They found a quiet, less populated corner towards the back of the room and by that time Charlie had thankfully managed to calm down a little. He chortled for a few more minutes, then stopped and leaning back against the wall behind him, he looked back and forth between Harry and Caleb.

“Looks like I won, Reid,” he said.

Harry rolled his eyes at them both.

“Honestly, stop it.”

“Just tell us the truth then,” Caleb pushed with a grin. “And just so you know, Potter, Stefan never calls me _Daddy_. I’d put him over my knee if he pulled that sort of stunt and while he may be a bit of a brat occasionally, he’s got some sense of how to behave around me because he knows what's good for him and even a pain slut like my little darling boy can only take so many strikes with a cane before it becomes too much.” 

“Eejits, both of you. The truth is none of your bloody business.”

Caleb sighed and glanced at Charlie, who smirked.

“Weasley, our boy has too much integrity. We trained him too well, he won’t even tell his BDSM godfathers what he’s up to.”

This time it was Harry’s turn to snort.

He looked back and forth between Caleb and Charlie and grinned, then quietly sipped on his Vitamin Water. He felt content and happy and like he belonged.

The feeling that spread from the centre of his chest and into the rest of his body was similar the how he felt whenever he stopped by the Burrow. It was the same feeling that consumed him when he looked at Draco and lost himself on those clear sparkling silvery-grey eyes. 

Everything was as right as rain.

He had a wonderful job that drove him crazy at least twice a week but he still loved it.

He had great friends who supported his lifestyle, friends he could faff about with, be himself with, friends he could tease and be downright sassy with.

He had a wonderful family and the fact that they weren’t related by blood meant little to him.

He had the sweetest godson in the world whom he loved and who loved him but most importantly, he had found the love of his life in Draco and just thinking about him made his heart beat a whole lot faster.

_I finally got it all_ , he thought and smiled when Charlie wrapped an arm around his shoulders and patted him on the back.

“He’s good for you,” he said quietly, then removed his arm and finished half his drink with several large gulps.

Harry nodded — Charlie could read him like a book, he knew that his honorary older brother had seen right through the dreamy look at that had most likely resulted in his eyes glazing over as he’d drifted off into a little daydream.

“Yeah, you know me, I always mock you, and Draco too, or well, especially him, because it’s just so much fun, but seriously he’s exactly what you needed.”

Caleb chimed in and added his own two knuts.

“I think I’m what he needs,” Harry said with a smile, then lifted his arm and glanced at his wrist. “Which reminds me, where is he? He’s been gone a while.”

“Potter, for Christ’s sake, let the man have his wank, er, I mean take a piss, you can’t rush the good stuff. You, of all people, should know that better than anyone.”

Harry groaned but did not respond to Caleb’s cheek.

At this stage, it wasn’t anything new, though Harry did make a mental note to tell Draco to have another go at Caleb — it would undoubtedly be a beautiful verbal sparring match which Draco was bound to win because he was just that good with his words.

Pushing any thoughts of enjoying the way Draco always bickered with Caleb to another corner of his mind, Harry turned around and let his eyes roam around the room, trying to spot Draco. He was unsuccessful and shuffling from one foot to the other he cast a nervous glance at Charlie, who smiled reassuringly.

“Give it another couple of minutes, Harry,” he said. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

Harry nodded, although waiting was suddenly the last thing he wanted to do.

He knew that he was probably being irrational but he absolutely did not like the fact that Draco was no longer at his side. He cast another glance at the open door to the function room, then proceeded to stare at it for a solid two minutes, as if that was going to help.

Draco hadn’t been gone for that long and Charlie was right to tell him that he should just relax and wait a little longer but something told Harry that doing that was entirely the wrong thing to do.

Besides, this was only Draco’s second visit to the club and the first time he’d left the room all by himself. Harry tried to rationalise the situation and told himself that the club was a safe space, that dungeon monitors were everywhere and that Draco was fine, but it didn’t lessen the persistent strange feeling that had taken up residence in the centre of his chest and refused to budge.

Something was off.

Something was wrong.

Seriously wrong.

A sense of unease and foreboding washed over him and all but thrusting his own drink at Charlie, Harry excused himself and headed for the door before either Caleb or Charlie could stop him.

He suddenly didn’t care if they thought him ridiculous — something was up, he just knew it.

_That’s what you get for believing everything in your life is perfect_ , he reprimanded himself and then promptly scolded himself for wasting valuable time putting himself down.

Instead, he tried telling himself that he was being stupid and irrational and that in approximately five minutes he would find Draco inside one of the stalls in the bathroom, still trying to come down from edging himself.

If anything, seeing him act like a worried mother hen would probably help Draco to come down faster. It was a prime opportunity to show some cheek and Harry rather looked forward to it.

Draco Malfoy, even when sexually frustrated, wasn’t the type of person to pass up a fine opportunity to show some sass.

Harry chuckled under his breath and decided that once he found Draco, he would take him home immediately and allow him to have an utterly mind-blowing toe-curling breath-taking orgasm that would leave him floating for the remainder of the night. He deserved no less.

* * *

 


	61. Playing With Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First up a straight up big fat **warning** , this chapter includes graphic descriptions of a panic attack as a result of pyrophobia, which is the fear of fire. Nobody, I repeat, _nobody_ is being burned alive but I understand that a graphic description of a panic attack my be a trigger for some people so you might want to skip/skim over the second half of the chapter.
> 
> Yes, folks, there is **angst** and plenty of it and yes, all of it is absolutely necessary and unavoidable. Beg all you want, it's still going to happen, it must happen. Harry and Draco both agree.
> 
> I alluded to it in the previous chapter and the first half of the shit is about to hit the fan. If you've followed me down the rabbit hole this far, you'll manage the rest and as Professor Lupin always said, do get yourself some chocolate, it helps against everything and anything.
> 
> If it helps, this story is not going to suddenly turn dark. The main focus is still and will continue to be **KINK** , beautiful mind-twisting, toe-curling, earth-shattering kink. It's what I live for and I'm sure you too ( _perhaps not quite in the same way as I do, or perhaps in exactly the same way, who knows..._ ) but before I'm going to give you more kink, you'll have to climb this mountain with me and slide down the other end.
> 
> You've got to earn your rewards, my darlings.
> 
> That's the beauty of a D/s relationship and we all know that's exactly what this is. *wink* Lucky for you, I'm a very benevolent Domme.
> 
> I've got ultimate control over the story and posting times ( _though I can assure it will continue to remain extremely regular_ ) and you're enjoying each chapter as it happens... 
> 
> Alright, now I'm really just teasing you, don't spank me, you know I love it...I'll just ask for more and it won't have the desired result. *wicked grin* Which is...yes, what **IS** the desired result?
> 
> Love,  
> Selly x

* * *

> **_Pyrophobia_** is an irrational fear of fire, beyond what one considers to be normal. This phobia is ancient and primordial, perhaps since mankind’s discovery of fire.

* * *

> **_Fear is like fire. It can cook for you. It can heat your house. Or it can burn your down._** ~Cus D’Amato

* * *

> _The heat, the smoke, the smell,_  
>  _A fiery demon, a burning spiral snake,_  
>  _An uncontrollable force, running wild,_  
>  _With nothing in its way,_  
>  _It sizzles and cracks,  
>  _ _It snaps and hisses,  
>  _ _As it takes down its prey._

* * *

Draco leant heavily against the wall of the bathroom stall, he’d locked himself into — how long ago, he did not remember. His mind was foggy and sluggish. His legs were shaking and his knees felt like they were a second away from giving in. He wanted nothing more than to slide down to the floor and just sit there until he remembered his name and could bear the idea of removing his fist from his mouth.

He’d stuck half of his balled-up hand between his teeth just after the first time he’d brought himself right to the edge, just an inch shy of the point of no return. Letting go of his cock and squeezing the base of it to try and bring himself down had been pure agony. His entire body had been buzzing and his need to just finish off and ejaculate all over his hand had been so great that he’d ended up needing something in his mouth to ensure he didn’t scream out his frustration.

The second time he’d stroked himself to near completion only to stop before his orgasm took hold and forced him over the edge, had resulted in him biting down hard — so hard that he should have been worried that his teeth had pierced the skin. But he’d been floating and his entire body had been buzzing with pent up energy and thrumming with the desire to just come already. Making sure that he hadn’t bitten his own hand and drawn blood had been the very last thing on his mind.

Now, after the third time of having teased his cock until he’d been about a second away from free-falling and descending into post-orgasmic bliss, he was a complete wreck, both mentally and physically, perhaps even emotionally.

Harry was cruel, he was a sodding bastard and Draco was bitter, unhappy, extremely frustrated and he _bloody well wanted to come already_ — and yet he loved every second of it. This little game of theirs, the power play, the fact that he had permission to touch but not climax, and the way he allowed Harry to dominate him, it was thrilling. He couldn’t get enough of it. Harry’s dominance fuelled his addiction and strengthened his desire to submit, again, and again, and again.

Half of him wanted to go back to Harry and beg and plead with him to show him some mercy and allow him some relief and the other half of him was so very tempted to just finish himself off and then take whatever punishment Harry would, undoubtedly, dish out.

It was a battle of wills and both ideas were equally as alluring. Of course, the punishment didn’t appeal quite as much but for Salazar’s sake, he was only human and there was only so much orgasm denial any sane man could take. He was quite certain that he’d reached his breaking point — at this stage, anything seemed possible. He wanted to be obedient and follow Harry’s instructions but he also wanted to be bold and try his hand at being a brat. He was sure Harry would find a way to control him.

Draco stared down at his cock, he was rock hard and the mere thought of touching his prick again filled him with agony — that was also the main reason he was yet to tuck himself back in or attempt to remove the thick layer of lube, he’d liberally spread all over his erection. His cock throbbed and twitched and the head of it was glistening with a mixture of lube and way too much precome — he didn’t think he’d ever seen his cock ooze quite that much precome. It pulsed and the head was a dark shade of red, filled with entirely too much blood that stubbornly refused to return to the other parts of his body until he got what he wanted, no, _needed_ — an earth-shattering, toe-curling, mind-blowing orgasm.

The kind only Harry could give him. The kind that went hand in hand with his submission and hearing Harry tell him those sweet words, _come for me, my little prince, come now_. The thought alone drove Draco wild and he fervently wished that Harry was here with him, telling him that he had permission to come.

Just a few short months ago he’d struggled to wrap his head around giving Harry control over his orgasms. Now, he wanted nothing else. He wanted and needed Harry to control when he could come and he revelled in begging, pleading, and having to ask for permission. He loved the possibility of Harry denying him, of telling him no, of forcing him to keep it together until Harry decided he’d earnt his pleasure. The thrill alone was more intense than his orgasms before Harry had so very thoroughly led him astray.

Presently, Draco’s all-consuming desire to come was the only thought on his mind and it replayed itself on a loop like a broken record. He didn’t even feel ashamed over the fact that he was inside a locked bathroom stall in the men’s room of a very exclusive BDSM club.

Somehow, and even though he’d never actually had sex in a public place, much less inside a toilet stall, there really wasn’t anything seedy or cheap about what he’d just done, what Harry had made him do and he was absolutely sure that if Harry was to apparate into the bathroom stall right now, force him to bend over and yank his trousers down completely and then roughly take him from behind, fucking him with wild abandon, he’d kneel and thank him afterwards.

The fantasy excited Draco greatly and he wondered whether Harry might be willing to make it come true. His cock twitched at the idea of begging Harry to fuck him in the toilets but it also increased his need to come and even though he didn’t really want to part company with such perfect dream, Draco resolutely pushed it out of his mind so that he had a slim chance at a successful attempt to try and focus.

He desperately tried to clear some of the hazy fog that clouded his senses and made his thoughts slow and his movements sluggish but it stubbornly refused to budge and with a low, almost pathetic-sounding whine, Draco very slowly removed his fist from his mouth and inspected it carefully. The bite marks were rather prominent and slowly running his fingertips over them, he hissed.

It hurt.

A lot.

But it also distracted him from his throbbing cock and so he continued to press his fingertip against the bite marks, and rubbing over them he lost himself in the lingering sting.

After a while, Draco let out a sigh and stopped inflicting further torture on himself. He shook his arm and his wand slipped out of the holster, he’d fastened to his forearm, and right into his hand. He gripped it as firmly as he could, which really wasn’t very firm at all, and swishing it, he cast a strong cleaning charm over his hands and a very gentle one over his cock.

The lube and precome disappeared and staring at his wand he momentarily fervently wished he knew the incantation to that devilish little spell that would make his cock wilt like a wildflower without water. Harry had mentioned it repeatedly but had never actually used it on him — there were times when Draco doubted it was a real spell but right this moment, he wanted it desperately and with every fibre of his body. Anything to make his erection go down and give him just a little bit of respite from the aftermath of having edged himself three times without the pleasure of release.

Instead of continuing to pity himself, he took a deep breath, sheathed his wand back inside its holster and very carefully wrapping his hand around his cock, he gently tucked himself back inside his boxer briefs and pulled them into place. When the material rubbed over the sensitive head, he let out another low hiss and only very grudgingly straightened his black chinos, zipped himself up, closed the button and fixed his belt.

He took another moment to further acquaint himself with the idea of having to walk around the place with a raging hard-on — the outline of it was clearly visible as it tented and stretched the fabric of his trousers. He inhaled and exhaled a few times, then finally pushed himself away from the wall and with one last very deep breath, he unlocked the door and stepped out of the stall, trying his best not to look around or draw any attention to himself.

Draco slowly moved over to the marble sinks on across from the stalls and rinsed his hands with water and soap. He took his sweet time — it was another chance to avoid walking — but suddenly conscious that Harry was expecting him back and would undoubtedly possibly even come looking for him, he finally shut the water off, dried his hands and left the luxurious bathrooms behind. He didn’t think he’d ever been inside a fancier men’s toilet but that trivial little fact hardly mattered — at Pandora’s Box, everything was spotless. The club took personal hygiene and cleanliness very serious and Harry had told him that they employed a special cleaning crew to ensure that every corner of every room and every inch of every toy was properly cleaned and disinfected.

Finding himself back in the main hallway, which absolutely resembled one of the countless corridors down in the Slytherin dungeons at Hogwarts, Draco paused for a moment and looked up and down the dimly-lit long passage. Confused, he looked first left, then right, then left again. He felt a little disoriented and for a moment he, despite trying his best to do so, simply couldn’t remember which direction he’d come from.

His brain was barely functioning properly. It was most definitely busy with keeping his vital organs working — the part of his brain that was responsible for rational thinking and storing memories presently seemed too difficult to access. Draco supposed that, with a bit of effort, he could do it but he couldn’t bring himself to gather up the energy required to make that effort.

After a few moments of hesitation and a rather frustrated but barely audible growl, he eventually turned left and very slowly walked down the soft — at least he thought it was soft, it certainly looked very soft — red carpet beneath his feet. Each step made the fabric of his underwear and trousers tease his persistently hard cock and he really wished he could disappear his clothing. He also wished that he wasn’t at the club anymore but either at home with Harry in his flat in Notting Hill or tied to the plush and extremely comfortable bed in Harry’s playroom on the fourth floor of Grimmauld Place.

He focused entirely on the relief he knew a lack of tight clothing would bring and drawing a bit of energy from that, he was glad to finally reach the end of the corridor. There, he walked up to the door on his right and dragged it open — it felt much heavier than it had when they’d first arrived but Draco put that down to his distinct lack of strength.

The moment he’d opened the door all coherent thoughts fled from Draco’s brain and he found himself staring in the face of his worst nightmare, the very thing he feared the most in this world, the one magical thing that had the power to make his heart stop and his brain short-circuit.

His mouth went dry, he forgot how to swallow and along with his heart rate rising and the palpitations kicking in, the tremors in his hands started. They spread through his arms and into the rest of his body and he broke out in cold sweat. Panic claimed him, clutched at every inch of him and breathing became entirely impossible and in an instant, he felt like he was choking.

In a frenzy, he repeatedly tore at his leather collar and when he didn’t manage to undo the clasp nausea and dizziness started to kick in and he began to see stars.

His panic quadrupled.

The overwhelming smell of fire assaulted his nostrils.

All he could see was everything burning in the all-consuming flames.

The intense heat choked him harder than his collar could.

The crackling sound, like Voldemort’s manic laughter, and the bright golden colour of the furious flames of the Fiendfyre — it had the shape of a gigantic terrifying serpent, a basilisk perhaps — came at him at the speed of light and threatened to overwhelm him.

With his very last breath Draco whispered one word, and one word only.

“Dobby.”

In an instant, the collar fell off him and unable to hold on to it, it slipped through his fingers and landed on the floor with a dull thud. A loud snap redirected Draco’s attention and staring into the eyes of that horrifying fiery demon, that voracious burning spiral snake, he felt a second wave of cold sweat break out all over his body and he started to shake like a leaf caught in a hurricane.

Summoning the very last reserves of his energy, he focused on his bedroom at Malfoy Manor and disapparated with a loud and ungraceful crack that nearly burst his eardrums.

A mere second later, or so it felt, he fell through the ancient wards that had protected the Manor through centuries and landing on the soft rug right in front of his old four-poster bed, he let out a wretched and pained scream and succumbed completely to the mental agony of what had just transpired — none of which made any sense whatsoever to him.

His body shook uncontrollably and he couldn’t stop the tremors, one after the other, each stronger than the last, surged through him and consumed his body and mind. He started shivering, the cold seeping through him and straight into his bones, and his teeth clattered. He clawed at the rug, digging his nails into the woven material until he’d managed to completely entangle his fingers in the old fabric.

He gasped and choked and desperately tried to breathe but it was so difficult, too difficult, impossible. His head spun, he felt dizzy and his stomach churned and he lost absolutely all control over any and every part of himself. He was vaguely aware of a loud crack that should have startled him but didn’t and then two arms wrapped themselves around him and he found himself engulfed in his mother’s familiar embrace.

Instead of continuing to claw at the rug, he clawed at her nightgown, hopelessly trying to disappear inside it as she held him close to her chest and rocked him back and forth. He sobbed and cried and trembled and shivered and some part of him heard the soothing sound of his mother’s voice wash over him as she repeatedly but unsuccessfully attempted to calm him.

Draco thrashed in her arms, screamed into her chest, and cried like he’d never cried before. Or maybe he had. He didn’t know. Nothing made sense. Everything was upside down. Foggy. Confusing.

There was so much fear. Too much fear. It ate him alive and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He was stuck, caught, locked up in his own hell and he didn’t know how to get out.

“I don’t want to die!”

He screamed the words, repeatedly, endlessly, over, and over, and over again, and again, and until his voice finally broke and gave out.

Another crack, followed by a second and then a third.

His mother said something which he didn’t understand and then three cracks.

House elves?

_Dobby._

In his haze that was the only name, Draco could remember and he clung to it, held on to it for dear life, chanted it over, and over, and over, like a mantra. It would make everything better, he told himself. Harry had promised him so.

One word, it would stop everything, always.

_Dobby._

Draco’s mind blanked and he dry-heaved. His stomach convulsed and twisted and coiled and turned. He tore out of his mother’s embrace just in time to vomit all over the rug and half of her dress, then continued to retch, pitifully, unable to stop himself from forcing every bit of food and drink out of his stomach. His chest felt unbelievably tight like someone had dropped a gigantic rock onto it, and his throat constricted, tightened and the smell of fire was everywhere. He could still feel the heat of the flames; it made his skin crawl and it felt like the blaze was trying to burn away every tiny hair that grew on his body.

He screamed, choked, and retched, then did it all again, and again.

It was a wretched cycle and he didn’t know how to stop it. His mother continued to calm himself, or at least that’s what he thought she was trying to do, and part of him imagined that she was frantic with distress yet if she was none of it showed.

“Fire.”

He whispered the word helplessly, then retched all over the floor, praying that the stench of bile would cancel out of the smell of fire, of burning things. Anything was better than that.

Thoughts of Harry filled his mind, consumed him. In his mind, a strong hand firmly grabbed his wrist, curled around it, and squeezed. Then Harry, effortlessly and with the grace of a trained Quidditch player, hauled him onto the back of his broom. Pressed close together, they desperately tried to outfly the Cursed Fire, to escape certain death. Harry’s flying skills were unmatched and out of this world. He whizzed through the air at breakneck speed, taking sharp left and right turns to outwit the furious flames of Crabbe’s rogue Fiendfyre. At the very last moment, they escaped through the doors of the brightly burning Room of Hidden Things and made it to safety.

“I don’t want to die.”

Draco sobbed and clutched at any part of his mother that he could reach. He kicked out at nothing in the hope that the flames would retreat.

They didn’t.

Another wretched scream tore itself from the depths of his chest and his heart threatened to give out, or so it felt.

A moment later, he heard several cracks.

Then, despite his best efforts to fight, he found his mouth forced open and someone forcefully poured something or other down his throat.

A potion.

Several potions.

Against his better judgement, Draco swallowed and the moment he did, a wave of calm washed over him and flooded every corner of his body and mind. He stopped kicking quite so much and willingly accepted more of the potion…potions.

His legs voluntarily stilled and he stopped clawing at his mother’s clothing.

Somewhere in the back of his mind was a thought, a reminder that he owed his mother an apology for ruining her clothes, for vomiting all over the carpet and for scaring the living daylights out of her in the middle of the sodding night. He swallowed more of whatever potion whoever was giving him and his heart rate gradually slowed, his breathing too.

Another gulp and he grew weary, oh so weary.

All-consuming intense tiredness took hold of him and because he did not have any fight left in him, he surrendered to it willingly and without the slightest hesitation.

He yawned, buried his face in his mother’s lap and felt himself drift, float even. This was different from how he felt when he was with Harry, not quite as pleasurable but welcoming all the same. He needed it, needed it more than anything else.

A small part of him wanted to fight the sensations but he didn’t have the energy required to do so. Instead, he mumbled Harry’s name, repeatedly, and relished in the small comfort it gave him, then relented and submitted to the persistent tug of sleep that pulled him out of his current manic state and into the dreamless world of deep sleep.

* * *

 


	62. Search Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the last few chapters have all ended with some pretty awful cliffhangers but this chapter should make things a bit better.
> 
> I do love toying with angst but I'm not usually the type of person to take things too far. It's not in my nature.
> 
> Do enjoy.
> 
> Love,  
> Selly x
> 
> P.S. Sweet Wifey, this chapter is for you, for the simple reason that there are (at least) two people in this chapter I know you love. Thank you for being a ray of sunshine in my life, full of dorky cuteness, kinky sass and so much love. You are a gem, I heart every inch of you, you precious soul.

* * *

About ten minutes later and after thoroughly searching the men’s bathroom, including every single stall, Harry found himself walking down the length of the corridor, heading into the opposite direction of the private function room in which tonight’s Shibari event was taking place.

At this point in time, he really couldn’t care less about the presentation even though he’d been looking forward to it for months. Sure, it had been the actual reason for his and Draco’s attendance but right now, that was of no concern to him.

The only thing that concerned him was trying to find Draco, nothing else mattered and wouldn’t matter until he had his arms safely wrapped around Draco and knew, with absolute certainty, that he was safe and that there wasn’t a single hair out of place on his head. With each minute that passed, Harry grew increasingly anxious and he didn’t like that side of him, not even in the slightest. He detested this feeling of complete powerlessness. It did not compare to what Draco gave up when he subbed for him. When Draco surrendered his control, when he put his trust in him and obeyed his every command, he was still in control of the situation.

One word from him and Harry would cease, he’d stop every action, he’d stop the scene and he’d make Draco’s safety and wellbeing his absolute priority. He’d hold him, talk to him, and find out what had gone wrong to push Draco far enough to feel that he needed to use his safeword and then he would, with immediate effect, put measures in place to ensure that whatever had resulted in Draco needing to safeword out of the scene would never happen again or only in the right context.

Right this moment, Harry wanted to use his own safeword. It was on the tip of his tongue just dying to roll past his lips and out into the open. A large part of him fervently opened that once he said the word everything would be okay again. Draco would reappear and they would hug and then confess that he’d teamed up with Caleb to play one elaborate hoax on him.

The rational part of his brain, however, stopped him from giving into the temptation. He knew using his safeword would not solve the problem and in a desperate attempt to preserve at least a tiny amount of his own sanity, Harry refrained from whispering his safeword. But he thought it. In his head, he repeated it like a mantra, nonstop. It wasn’t the best course of action but in his own shrewd way, it helped him to focus on what was important.

He gently released his wand from his its holster, which he’d fastened to his forearm after his shower and before getting dressed, and although he was careful to keep it hidden underneath the sleeve of his shirt, he wrapped his fingers around the tip of it, gripping it firmly. He didn’t really need it to focus his magic, wandless magic came easy to him these days, but what with his frayed nerves, he felt distracted and out of sorts and feeling his wand in his hands helped him a great deal. He clung to the little bit of piece of mind that it gave him and even though he didn’t have many options in terms of what spells he could cast, there were too many Muggles around, he kept on high alert with a list of both defensive and offence spells just whizzing around his mind, waiting to be used.

He forced himself to breathe deeply, slowly. By now, Harry was certain that something had happened. The fantasy that it was all a joke and that Draco was hiding away in some dark corner of the club, having a laugh, was nice but it was neither realistic nor was something Draco would do to get a rise out of him. Draco used his words, his unbelievable sarcasm, and his sass as well as his cool posh British drawl. That’s how he got a rise out of him, not by concealing himself and frightening the living daylights out of Harry.

Caleb and Charlie both thought that he was absolutely overreacting, at least that’s what their facial expressions told him, but, before he’d been able to beseech them, they’d offered their help and Harry was truly grateful that neither one of them mocked him for his insistence that Draco was in trouble.

They knew how much he cared about Draco and in their own ways, they cared just as much about him and knowing that they did, meant the world to Harry. Those were his friends and while they often mocked him for carrying his heart on his sleeve for the whole world to see, when it came down to it, they stood by him and supported him no matter what.

Harry walked further down the corridor and having made it nearly to the very end, he was about to turn around when something caught his eye and his attention. It looked strangely familiar and taking two steps towards the heavy iron door to his right, one of the speciality function rooms, he crouched down.

The moment that he did, he recognised the item for what it was and an ice-cold shiver ran down his spine, chilling his blood and sending a tremor of panic shooting through his bones. He breathed deeply and slowly reached out for Draco’s abandoned collar and clasping his hands tightly around it, he stood up and inspected it.

It had scratch marks on it as if someone had tried to take it off in a blind panic, and another tremor surged through him. He swallowed hard and had to force himself to take a yet another deep breath, then turned around and practically sprinted down the corridor.

About halfway there, he stumbled over something or other on the floor and would have gone sailing straight to the ground if it hadn’t been for Caleb’s firm and steadying grip that came seemingly right out of nowhere.

“Steady there, soldier,” he said.

Having regained his balance, Harry looked back and forth between Caleb and Charlie. They’d both clearly come looking for him and showing them Draco’s collar, he stared at them with wild eyes, silently pleading with them to take him seriously.

“Something happened, he wouldn’t have taken this off for no reason, I swear, he wouldn’t. He loves wearing it, it means the world to him whenever I put his collar on him.”

He could feel the panic starting to take over as the fear gripped him. His heart began to pound inside his chest and he started breathing faster. He clenched his fingers tightly around the collar to stop his hands from shaking but it was of no use. His body had other intentions and his mind only just continued to play ball but he knew that he was seconds away from descending into madness. He’d never ever been this worried, not ever.

“I’ll get the dungeon monitors to help look,” Caleb said. B

Before Harry could thank him, he rushed off down the corridor to do just that. He was the proactive type; it came with his job. He loved horsing around but when something was wrong, when people were in danger, Caleb was at his most serious, and at his calmest. Harry had never once seen him lose his cool. Sure, he had a temper. Sure, he could get angry. But never in a sticky situation and never during a scene or when dealing with a sub. Those were the times Caleb was at his most rational and when he thought about things others ignored.

Harry looked at Charlie, let his shoulders dejectedly fall forward and firmly suppressed the desire to let out an agonising scream. He could feel his heart breaking inside his chest, crack after crack, and the physical pain of it was enough to bring him to his knees, he could even feel them shake but he pulled himself together and resisted, with all his might.

“Charlie,” he whispered, helplessly. “I charmed it; he— he wouldn’t have been able to— to undo the clasp himself. It recognises my magical signature and— and it only comes off when he uses his safeword.”

Charlie nodded in silent understanding.

“Where did you find it?”

“Over there by the speciality function room,” Harry said. “Merlin knows what he was doing there.”

“Did you check inside?”

Harry shook his head and as he did, he started walking.

Charlie followed suit and they both walked back into the direction Harry had just come from. They made it to the speciality function room in no time and immediately dragging the door open, Harry took half a step into the room. It was quite warm inside and despite the excellent ventilation the penetrating scent of burning paraffin lingered in the air and Harry pulled a face — he hated that smell with a passion. In fact, there was nothing in the world, except maybe Horcruxes and Dolores Umbridge, he despised more than the smell of that highly flammable, colourless, oily liquid.

For a moment, he watched, transfixed, as the artist on stage soaked her fire whip in the liquid fuel, carefully lit it and once the thong, fall, and popper were brightly aflame, she flexed her wrist expertly and flung her whip through the air, creating an impressive fireball and a rather loud crack.

Harry involuntarily flinched a little and took a cautionary step back — he wasn’t anywhere near the flames but they still managed to instil a healthy dose of respect in him.

He looked around the function room and blinked, trying to adjust his eyes. It was dark but Draco’s hair was a bit of a beacon, even in a darkened room. It was easy to spot, and while he highly doubted that Draco had gone inside to watch the show, it didn’t hurt to check.

Unable to spot Draco anywhere, Harry quietly withdrew from the room, let the door fall closed behind him and turned around to face Charlie.

Thankfully, that horrid smell of paraffin remained inside the room and Harry took a deep breath to clear his nostrils and airways.

“I take it he’s not in there?” Charlie asked.

Harry shook his head.

“No. Did you know about that fire show being on tonight?”

This time it was Charlie’s turn to shake his head.

“Caleb would have known. Why?”

Harry sighed.

“I fear something’s really wrong. Draco didn’t suddenly decide he didn’t want to wear my collar any more. For Merlin’s sake, he cried when I gave it to him, it meant that much to him. He loves wearing it!”

“Most, if not all, subs do.”

Charlie acknowledged his concerns and smiled knowingly. Harry threw his hands up in frustration. He accidentally smacked the collar’s metal clasp against his forehead, just above his right eye and winced. He had the feeling it would leave a mark, it certainly hurt enough for that to be the case, but he was loath to let that distract him from figuring out what had happened to Draco.

“Fuck!” he snapped.

“Hey, this isn’t helping.”

“I know, but Charlie, fuck, fuck, _fuck_ , something’s wrong! Something is very wrong. I need to find him. Now!”

“We will find him, don’t you worry.”

Normally Charlie’s calm and soothing tone helped Harry to keep his cool but he wound up too tightly and was so far past the ability to control his emotions that neither Charlie’s placating words nor his comforting voice had any effect on him.

“Come, we’ll search through some of the other rooms. Caleb’s getting the dungeon monitors to help check every room in this damn club, you know he will. We’ll find him.”

“What if— what if— what if someone—”

Harry couldn’t bring himself to finish that question.

The mere thought of anyone touching what was rightfully his instantly turned his stomach upside down. Draco was _his_ to touch, _his_ to love, _his_ to take home, _his_ to play with, _his_ to treasure and care for. Nobody else had that right, nobody else would ever have that pleasure, at least not for as long as he and Draco were an item and he fervently hoped that they’d be an item for a long, long time.

Draco was his little prince; he was his good boy and Harry had no intention of ever sharing him with anyone, not even for a minute. He was possessive like that and didn’t feel the slightest shame about it.

“I swear, Charlie if I find even a single hair on his head out of place, I’ll kill whoever did it. I swear I will and you know I’ll make good on my word.”

Charlie grasped his shoulder and squeezed hard.

“Harry James Potter— you listen to _me_ , now. Nobody is going to kill anyone, lest of all you.”

Charlie’s Dom voice mildly terrified Harry. He hadn’t heard it in a long time, at least not directed at him, and unable to think of a single thing to respond to that, he merely opened and closed his mouth, like a fish out of water. Charlie seemed entirely unfazed by his reaction to the tone of his voice and simply continued talking.

“If anything, we’ll get Caleb to do the dirty work. He’s a firefighter, he knows how to burn a body so that there’s nothing left but ash and that’s easily vanquished with a cleaning charm. Besides, I’m sure there’s a perfectly simple explanation. We’ll find your Draco, I promise.”

Harry let out a hollow laugh, though, right this moment, all he really wanted to do was cry.

He barely managed to keep the panic at bay any longer. It was slowly spreading through his body and seeping into every pore, making it difficult to concentrate and remain focused.

The rational part of him — the part that was the Director of the Auror Department and an experienced Dom — knew that blind panic and white-hot rage wouldn’t get him anywhere but the part of him that was insanely in love with Draco and cared for him more than he’d ever cared about a living soul — with perhaps the exception of Teddy — firmly overruled everything.

It was brain versus heart and right this moment his heart was winning over his brain.

“Standing around here promising murder isn’t going to help anyone, lest of all Draco, so if you’re not going to be rational, I’m going to lock you in a room and put an Anti-Apparition Charm on it.”

Charlie’s voice, while reassuring, continued to ring in his ears. It was harsh and firm and cut straight through the haze in his mind. It pushed the panic, that threatened to consume him, aside.

Harry snapped right out of it and stared at Charlie. He pressed Draco’s collar to his chest and nodded.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“There’s my boy.”

Charlie smiled and finally relaxed his vice-grip on his shoulder. Harry winced at the lingering ache but didn’t blame Charlie for his rough handling — it had been the wake-up call he’d needed.

“Now, you’re going to check the rooms on the right and I’ll check everything on the left. When we reach the other end of the corridor we’ll go and find Caleb for an update on whether the dungeon monitors found anything.”

“Thank you, Charlie,” Harry said.

He was truly grateful that someone else was taking charge of the situation because Dom or no Dom, at this moment in time, he was not able to continue making the decisions he needed to make.

“That’s what family is for, Potter.”

Somehow, Harry managed to produce a weak smile and together he and Charlie searched through every single function room, though, unfortunately without any luck.

About an hour later, Harry was once again beside himself with panic and nervously pacing the pavement outside the club, he stared at Caleb, Charlie, the club owner and two senior dungeon monitors, all people he knew quite well.

Up until five minutes ago, they’d all helped and searched every nook and cranny of the club but hadn’t been able to find Draco.

Nobody had seen him either and Harry was a second away from calling the Met _and_ the entire Auror Department to work overtime.

For the time being, Charlie had somehow talked him out of it, although Harry had no idea how he’d managed that. He wasn’t exactly in the right frame of mind to think clearly and was, therefore, most grateful when Charlie took charge again.

“Alright folks, listen up because here’s what we’re going to do. Caleb, you stay at the club and get the DMs to help you keep looking. Harry and I are going to his place and then to Draco’s flat, and maybe a couple of other places, to check whether we can find Draco. If we can’t, we’ll convene here and get the police involved.”

Everybody nodded in agreement and when Charlie grabbed him by the shoulder and dragged him down the road, Harry blindly stumbled along.

They made it to a secluded corner and after ducking into it, Charlie suddenly pushed him up against the wall.

“Right Potter, give it to me straight and don’t you dare play me for a fool because I absolutely do not have the desire to spend a night in St. Mungo’s. Are you good to apparate us to Grimmauld Place or are you going to splinch us considering the state you’re in?”

Harry forced himself to take several deep breaths of the cool night air all around them and felt it help him relax.

“I’m good,” he said, having regained some form of control over his frayed emotions.

He placed his hand on Charlie’s upper arm, concentrated and in a flash, they were gone.

Moments later, they reappeared in his kitchen at Grimmauld Place and swaying a little from the rather ungraceful landing, Harry took a moment to steady himself, then, without waiting for Charlie to catch up, dashed out of the room and repeatedly called out Draco’s name.

After fifteen minutes of searching the house from top to bottom, Harry had to conclude that Draco wasn’t here and unwilling to linger, he grabbed Charlie and apparated them both over to Notting Hill where they walked the short distance to Draco’s flat.

Draco had included his magical signature in the wards and as such Harry had no trouble entering the house and opening the door to the flat. It didn’t take him long to establish that Draco wasn’t here either and when he emerged back out onto the pavement, where Charlie was patiently waiting for him, it was with slumped shoulders and a sour expression. He still hadn’t let go of Draco’s collar and thankfully nobody had as much as attempted to pry it from his grasp. Just as well, they weren’t going to manage anyway.

_I’d like to see anyone try_ , he thought bitterly and looking at Charlie, he let out a low sigh.

“I’m not going to stop until I find him, Charlie.”

“I don’t expect you to. Where to next?”   

“The Ministry? St Mungo’s? I don’t know… Malcolm?”

“Who is that?” Charlie asked.

“His ex.”

“Would he go there?”

Harry shrugged.

“He loves Kona.”

Charlie frowned and Harry deduced that he had to explain.

“Malcolm’s ex has a dog. Draco is absolutely in love with her; he takes her out for walks whenever he can and usually drags me along too. Meeting her and Malcolm, we had our very first proper scene after that. Pet play of all things, do you believe it?”

Charlie smiled.

“A story for another day,” he said firmly.

Harry nodded absent-mindedly and tried his best to keep the memories at bay. They were very good memories and Harry treasured them a lot but right now, they were distracting and he didn’t need any distractions. What he needed was to find Draco, sooner rather than later.

He and Charlie silently walked several steps down the road and ducked behind a large acorn tree. Taking hold of Charlie’s arm, Harry apparated them to the Ministry, though why Draco might go there in the middle of the night was something Harry couldn’t imagine. Still, he wasn’t about to leave any stone unturned.

The remainder of the night passed just like this, Harry racking his brain for any location Draco might have gone to and telling Charlie about it.

As a result of that, he and Charlie apparated back and forth across London and it wasn’t until the early hours of the morning, when the new day threatened to break, that Charlie firmly put his foot down and apparated them both straight to the Burrow where Molly, still in her nightgown and bathrobe, wordlessly handed them both a mug of steaming hot strong black tea with a hefty shot of Brandy.

Harry tiredly slumped into one of the creaking wooden chairs at the dining table and quietly sipped his tea and Brandy.

If Molly thought it odd that he was clutching a collar in his left hand, she never said a word and he didn’t feel the need to explain. He was certain that Molly had seen stranger things than a collar and whether she could connect the dot and piece one and two together and arrive at the right conclusion was of no concern to Harry. She was family and after the warm welcome she’d given Draco, Harry knew it would be close to impossible for her to decide she didn’t love him anymore.

He was vaguely aware of Charlie exchanging a few whispered words with his mother before approaching the table and sitting down in the chair next to him.

Charlie placed his hand on Harry’s forearm and even though he felt the almost irresistible urge to shrug it off, scream at the top of his lungs, and then punch a few holes into the old dining table, Harry did nothing of the sort.

He simply sat at there in his chair, stared into his steaming tea, and considered himself an epic failure. He’d not managed to find Draco and he was still none the wiser as to what had made Draco use his safeword and abandon his collar. All he knew was that it must have been something big and not knowing was driving him mad. He was worried, exhausted, truly at the end of his tethers and a minute away from bursting into tears.

“Harry, I’m going to apparate over to the club and let Caleb know. I’ll be back in half an hour, please don’t do anything irrational.”

“I’ll try not to,” Harry mumbled.

He felt Charlie squeeze his arm and out of the corner of his eye, he saw him get up and leave through the front door.

A moment later, he heard the distinct crack of apparition and letting out a soft sigh, he wearily brought his mug of tea up to his lips and took a few small sips.

Molly hovered nearby and Harry supposed that she had every right to be worried about him, he was quite aware that he was a complete mess, but he didn’t have the energy to acknowledge her.

If she minded, she didn’t show it and despite the whole mess, Harry was grateful that she was there, just a few steps away, ready to listen to him complain or just envelop him in a friendly motherly hug.

He felt the tears prick at the corners of his eyes and sniffing he tried his best to hold them back but after everything, he failed completely and giving in to the urge, he finally allowed himself to fall apart. He squeezed his eyes shut and thick hot drops of salty water spilt over the rim of his eyes and fogged up his glasses. He sniffed again and let out a wretched sob as his heart continued to break in his chest.

“I failed him, mum, I didn’t take care of him right,” he whispered, not even sure that why he’d suddenly chosen to call Molly mum — she’d offered it a long time ago but he’d never taken her up on that.

Up until now, it had always felt wrong but right now, it felt all sorts of right.

Molly was there in an instant, just as he had expected. She wrapped her arms tightly around him and squeezed him so hard that he momentarily struggled to breathe. Instead of attempting to pull away, he relished in her strong embrace.

“Oh, my sweet boy, you did nothing of the sort. Charlie told me; you did everything you could. Believe me, when that scoundrel boyfriend of yours turns up again, I’ll have a good word with him. Nobody makes my boy cry.”

Harry wanted to object, wanted to tell her that Draco was no scoundrel but a decent man, but found himself laughing through his tears instead — he had no doubt that Molly would make good on her word, she was that kind of woman.

He sniffed and smiled gratefully when Molly handed him a handkerchief. He blew his nose, then pulled out of Molly’s hug and drank more tea. He would have preferred coffee but the warmth of the tea and the Brandy helped him to relax a bit. It also restored a little bit of his energy.

“Thank you, Molly.”

“Nonsense, you’re family.”

Harry swallowed past the large lump of emotions in his throat.

“You should have some food.”

“Not hungry.”

Harry shook his head quite firmly — the last thing he wanted to do right now was to eat something. He couldn’t stomach the idea of food, the mere thought of it made his stomach churn. He was sure that Molly would object, would force him to eat at least a slice of dry toast with butter but miraculously, she stoutly remained quiet and he took another few sips of his tea, then proceeded to continue racking his brain about what on earth had happened to Draco at the club and why he was unable to find him.

He was so distracted that he barely noticed the silvery mist of a Patronus slither into the house and it was only when the animal was in its corporal form that Harry’s head snapped up and he stared into the eyes of a rather elegant silver fox with a long bushy tail.

It proudly stood on the table in front of him, emitting an air of grace, Harry hadn’t ever seen in a Patronus before.

With a frown, Harry tried his best to recall whose Patronus has sought him out at such an ungodly hour but his exhausted brain refused to cooperate. Nobody he knew had a fox as Patronus and it most definitely wasn’t anyone from the Ministry.

A moment later, Narcissa Malfoy’s posh upper-class English drawl reverberated around the room and he had his answer.

“Harry. Draco is at the Manor; he is safe. The family healer has administered a few potions to help him sleep. Please come at once, he asked for you before he fell asleep.”

The silver fox lowered his head slightly, then evaporated and the silvery mist of Narcissa Malfoy’s Patronus disappeared just as the sun began to rise over the horizon and the first rays of sunshine fell through the kitchen window and onto the dining room table.

Harry turned his head to look at Molly and let out a loud groan.

“The Manor, damnit! Molly, I’m such a fucking idiot. I went bloody everywhere except there; it didn’t even occur to me. I’m a complete and utter moron. I honestly deserve everything I put myself through tonight.”

Harry shoved his chair back and rising to his feet, he hastily pressed a kiss to Molly’s cheek — a silent apology for his foul language. He could tell by the look on her face that she was less than pleased about his sudden outburst but given the situation, she chose to remain quiet. He had no doubt that she’d find a time to give him a stern talking to. If there was something Molly Weasley did not stand for then it was swearing.

For now, she let him get away with it and instead, she offered to be proactive.

“I’ll tell Charlie,” she said.

With a nod and one last sip of tea, Harry left the house and disapparated on the spot.

* * *

 


	63. Trip To The Manor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely loved everything about writing this chapter. It brought me the kind of joy that is really hard to describe. I don't want to spoil anything for you before you start reading but I feel that waxing lyrical about the chapter would give too much of the plot away, so I'll just keep it really simple. This was one of the chapters that gave me such a rush, a true feeling of excitement.
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy it as well.
> 
> **K,** random but H.O.N.E.Y. :-)
> 
> Love,  
> Selly X
> 
> P.S. Coffee Bean, I don't believe a single word of that "I'm so busy" excuse, you're purposefully hiding behind that to conceal the fact that you don't do cliff hangers. And yes, I absolutely did just reveal your secret to the world. Since I did that you don't have to bother admitting to it, just quietly smirk to yourself and continue denying the truth. I know it and now everyone else knows it too. My world is perfect.

* * *

While Harry felt sorely tempted, and almost bold enough, to apparate straight into Draco’s old bedroom, his desire not to splinch himself and end up in St Mungo’s was far greater and he resolutely resisted the urge to do something incredibly stupid.

So, despite feeling tired, sleep-deprived, worn out and utterly drained, he managed to concentrate for long enough to complete the jump from the Burrow to Malfoy Manor safely and in one piece.

Upon his arrival, he found the elaborate iron-wrought gates wide open and momentarily hesitating to step onto the property, Harry let his gaze drift down the walkway and took in the imposing sight of Draco’s childhood home.

A strange feeling of déjà vu washed over him and he shuddered and shuffled his feet nervously. Something about the centuries-old impressive building still made Harry want to turn on his heel and run. He suspected that it was his deeply-rooted dislike of the place.

While Draco, and Narcissa, had tried their best to show him the beauty of the place, Harry couldn’t help but suspect that his own bad memories stopped him from even considering that Draco had returned home to the Manor. A part of him wanted to beat himself up for it but he was rational enough, or maybe simply too tired, to really go there.

He was, however, rather acutely aware that, had he spent a little more time thinking, he could have saved himself a whole lot of trouble. Short of acquiring a Time-Turner from the Department of Mysteries, there was nothing he could do now to change how he’d reacted to Draco’s sudden, and still largely confusing, disappearance. He was also mature enough to know that he’d panicked and in that his brain hadn’t been working at its full capacity. He’d tried to keep his cool thorough but he knew he’d slipped several times and he couldn’t really blame himself for that — when it came to his family being in trouble, and he considered Draco family, his common sense went right out of the window.

Narcissa’s Patronus had mentioned something about Healers and that was enough to finally kick Harry into gear. He stopped stalling at the front gates to the estate and inhaling deeply, he momentarily held his breath, took a step forward and he walked onto the grounds. Relieved that the ancient wards allowed him to pass, he exhaled audibly and hurried down the pebbled driveway towards the large old Manor house.

It was eerily quiet all around and the only sound he could hear was that of the crunching pebbles beneath the soles of his shoes. A few of the precious white-grey stones shunned his feet, fleeing in anguished haste as he inadvertently kicked at them.

Harry made it to the portico in no time and as he approached, the heavy front door creaked open and Narcissa stepped outside to meet him. Her long black hair, with its impressive platinum-blond highlights, cascaded down over her shoulders and appeared to still be damp in places — Harry deduced she’d recently had a shower or at least washed her hair without the use of magic. She hadn’t bothered to braid her hair or pull it together and despite the weary look in her eyes, the casualness of her hairstyle gave her a youthful and less scary appearance. It made her look human and it also made her appear vulnerable and like she’d recently gotten hurt or suffered an unexpected scare.

Harry had expected to find her fully dressed but the fact that she was only wearing a dark green nightgown and a silver-grey bathrobe only made him feel even tenser. He tried his best to keep his emotions under control, at least for now, and climbing the three low steps that led onto the portico, he came to a halt in front of Narcissa. If she’d looked weary from several feet away, she looked positively drained close-up.

Harry’s chest tightened painfully and his anxiety increased tenfold.

“Narcissa. What happened?” he asked.

“Come inside first,” Narcissa said.

A part of Harry wanted to insist that she fill him in on what had happened but his intuition told him that he was not in any position to make demands and so he silently followed Narcissa. She led him across the entrance hall and into the large formal drawing room, he vaguely remembered passing through on their tour through the Manor when he and Draco had visited for tea several months ago.

They hadn’t been back since, not because he refused, but because Narcissa had asked to meet them for coffee or tea in London, treating them to various exquisite small shop hidden away in places you’d least expect to find a gem. Harry knew it was a ploy to make him feel at ease but he never said anything, not to Draco and not to Narcissa. It was just one of those things, someone who cared about you, did for you and he didn’t feel the need to bring it up in a conversation.

Narcissa, despite her evident tiredness, elegantly seated herself on an ivory settee sofa and reaching for a delicate China teacup, she brought it up to her lips and took a few small sips. She then replaced the cup on its saucer, straightened her back and loosely folded her hands in her lap.

“Is Draco all right?”

Harry tried his best to come across as calm but he could tell that he sounded rather desperate. He glanced down at his hands and realised that he was still holding on to Draco’s leather collar. He felt mildly mortified and hoped Narcissa hadn’t spotted it or if she had, that she wouldn’t feel the need to ask him about it — this was a conversation he’d rather not have with his partner’s mother of all people.

A hasty wordless wandless spell later, he’d shrunk the collar down to a tiny bracelet. He slipped it into his trouser pocket but unable to part company with it until he had returned it to its rightful owner, he kept his fingers firmly clasped around it — somehow, it gave him peace of mind. It was tangible evidence of the deep connection between him and Draco, it was his way of visualising his love for Draco, and his frayed mind fervently needed all the help it could get to stop him from freaking out completely.

Narcissa nodded in response to his question, then spoke up.

“He is, he will be. Now, would you care to tell me what took you so long to get here? I was rather under the impression that you cared a great deal about my son but your present behaviour leaves me with no choice but to reevaluate your feelings for Draco.”

Narcissa’s accusatory tone and her dark glower felt like a harsh slap in the face and despite Harry’s best efforts to keep his composure, he still flinched at her words — they hurt quite a bit. Even though she didn’t meddle in Draco’s day-to-day life, Narcissa was still fiercely protective of her son and Harry had no doubt that she absolutely would protect him at all cost if she felt that such measures were necessary.

“I came as soon as I received your Patronus,” Harry said truthfully.

He kept his frown and confusion off his face but couldn’t resist releasing his wand from its Auror-issued leather holster, which was still strapped to his forearm. He allowed it to slip into the palm of his hand and loosely closed his fingers around the tip of it — just holding it instantly made him feel better.

“I sent word around midnight.”

“I swear, Mrs Malfoy, your Patronus found me at the Burrow about half an hour ago. I came immediately. Draco and I attended a friend’s gathering last night, which is when he went missing. I spent the whole night looking for him. I apparated all over London trying to find him.”

Narcissa frowned at him and he noted that her glower had all but disappeared and her expression had softened a little.

“I believe we agreed that you would call me Narcissa, _Harry_. Or is one firm reprimand from the worried mother of an only child all it takes for you to distance yourself from me? And for Salazar’s sake, boy, holster your wand, I have no intention of hexing you. I am not a fool. Draco is an excellent prosecutor and no matter how much he loves me, he would have me in Azkaban before the end of the weekend, of that I am sure. Trust me, Harry, I have absolutely no desire to join my infernal miscreant fob of a husband, most certainly not after the way he treated his only son after the war.”

Harry looked down at his wand-hand and then straight at Narcissa. He couldn’t help but smile a little and suddenly found himself rather in awe of her keen observational skills — though it also told him that she’d most definitely seen the collar in his hand and he fervently hoped that she wasn’t going to demand an explanation about it or knew what it was.

Still, he dutifully holstered his wand and pushing his hand back into his trouser pocket, he curled his fingers tightly around it and as the collar’s locking magic teased his fingertips, he slowly breathed in and allowed fresh oxygen to gradually fill his lungs to the brim. He held his breath for a second or two, felt himself relax, then exhaled slowly.

“Narcissa,” he said.

“See, that wasn’t so hard.”

Narcissa smiled and sitting forward she picked up her teacup again and lifted it to her lips.

“If you spent all night searching for Draco, I’m not surprised my Patronus had a hard time locating you,” she said between two sips of tea.

Harry relaxed a little further.

“You aren’t angry then?”

“I was never angry, Harry. Just worried, same as you. You should know something about me, Harry, I don’t make a habit of jumping to conclusions without having all the facts. My son learnt that from me. It took him a while to get there but eventually, he realised it was the most sensible way to go about life.”

Harry let out a low sigh.

“I’m exhausted,” he admitted quietly.

He cast a longing glance at a nearby armchair. It looked extremely comfortable-looking, though at this stage a large rock or a dead tree trunk were just as appealing. Hell, a stone floor for a bed seemed like a good idea.

“Sit down.”

It only took Harry two large strides to make it over to the armchair. He ungracefully fell into its cushions and leant back. When Narcissa handed him a cup of tea, he wanted to politely reject it, but the look on her face told him that she wasn’t going to take no for an answer and so he mutely accepted the hot beverage and took a careful sip or two. The hot beverage warmed his mouth and as it slowly moved through him, the warmth spread and he felt himself relax a little more. What was it with mothers and tea? Why did they all seem to think that it had the power to right all wrongs?

“Narcissa, I absolutely need you to tell me what happened last night,” he implored.

This time it was her turn to sigh.

“I wish I knew. He had a terrible panic attack, but he was in no fit state to tell me anything conclusive. I’m surprised he didn’t splinch himself apparating over here given the awful state he was in.”

Harry took another sip of his tea, then leant forward to set the cup down onto the small table between him and Narcissa. He finally let go of Draco’s collar and rubbed his face with both hands, then combed his fingers through his messy hair, before volunteering an extremely watered-down version of the last time he’d seen Draco.

“We were chatting, fooling around. He excused himself to go to the bathroom and when he didn’t come back, I started looking for him but—” Harry trailed off.

A sharp pain pierced the centre of his chest and he clenched his hands into tight fists and let them rest in his lap. Nothing made any sense anymore and his exhausted brain refused to connect the dots. The incessant throbbing behind his eyes hinted at the beginnings of a migraine of epic proportions and he only barely managed to suppress a yawn.

He felt completely drained — tonight had been, and to an extent, it felt like it still was, his worst nightmare and he wished that it was over already.

“Harry, Draco should probably fill you in on the facts himself since I really don’t want to step on his toes so I’ll give you the bare minimum only. Surely you remember the Fiendfyre that killed Vincent Crabbe?”

Harry nodded.

“How could I forget…” he mumbled.

He’d been in the middle of the blaze, caught in the furious flames, making a run for his life. He also hadn’t forgotten that the reason Draco was still alive was because he’d whirled his broom around and gone back for him, because he’d risked his own life to save the life of a man who’d caused him nothing but heartache ever since they’d first met — still, given their relationship and how much they loved each other, Harry could find no fault in his actions.

Deep down inside, he knew he’d done the right thing and he thanked his lucky stars for his reckless but successful attempt at saving Draco’s life. These days, he couldn’t imagine his own life without Draco in it. He brightened up his days, brought sunshine and laughter, sass and sarcasm, love and passion, and the most incredible sex, Harry had ever had in his entire life. Their connection ran deep, very deep. It felt like it had surpassed the average depth of a relationship and something told Harry that their history, the fact that they were both wizards, and Draco open approval and enjoying of the lifestyle had a lot to do with how intricately connected they’d both become. Theirs was a bond for life.

Narcissa’s next words stopped Harry from further contemplating every level of his and Draco’s relationship.

“There was an incident a few months after the end of the war.”

“Pyrophobia?” Harry asked quietly.

Narcissa inclined her head.

Suddenly, and despite being ready to fall into bed and sleep for a whole day, or perhaps even two, it all made perfect sense to Harry.

The fire whip show in the special function room.

He couldn’t even begin to imagine how terrified Draco must have felt in that moment and just thinking about it made him feel like some otherworldly force had a vice-like grip on his heart. Every single beat felt forced and an all-consuming ache flooded him. His head threatened to explode with the searing pain of his migraine and for a few moments, he struggled to breathe easily.

_I shouldn’t have sent him to the men’s room_ , Harry berated himself.

He momentarily closed his eyes and tried to inhale deeply but his lungs hurt just as much as his heart and head and unable to stomach the excruciating pain that threatened to devour him, he eventually settled for taking several shallow breaths.

A warm hand came to rest on his knee and slowly opening his eyes, Harry found himself staring into two impossibly blue orbs.

He blinked and Narcissa smiled warmly. It was entirely unexpected and sent a shudder through Harry.

“Call it a mother’s intuition but I am certain you were not to blame. You care a great deal about my son, Harry, don’t beat yourself up about it, please. It won’t do him or you any good. I assure you he’s safe now. Shaken up but safe.”

“Is he in his room?”

Narcissa nodded.

“Fast asleep. I’ve set wards to alert me should he wake but I don’t expect him to do so in the next couple of hours.”

“Let me go upstairs,” Harry said. “I want to be with him.”

He attempted to get up but Narcissa responded by closing her fingers around his wrist and effectively stopping him from leaving the room before he’d even taken his first step.

“You, my young man, will do no such thing. The only place you’re going to is the guest quarters to have a shower and a rest.”

Harry opened his mouth with the very intention of vehemently objecting.

Narcissa raised a single finger and he instantly closed his mouth and said nothing though inwardly he sighed and cursed the power mothers had over people, even those mothers he wasn’t related to or not yet related to.

“I won’t hear it, Harry. A shower and some rest, it’s non-negotiable. You and I both know that you need this, so don’t be difficult about or I’ll change my mind about hexing you. I’ll have one of the elves bring you up some food.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Harry Potter,” Narcissa said, raising her voice sharply as she spoke, “you will do as I say! Are we clear?”

Harry shuddered.

_Merlin_ , he thought, _one dragon-mother is bad enough, I don’t need another one who is an actual dragon_.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he responded meekly.

He simply didn’t have the energy to argue with Narcissa though even in his fatigued state he could tell where Draco had gotten his way with words and his sass from.

Apparently, and despite his inclination to submit and surrender all control, he’d also inherited a healthy dose of bossiness from his mother and Harry loved him even more for it.

He suddenly found himself fondly remembering that time not so long ago when he’d managed to land himself in St Mungo’s. Draco had dropped absolutely everything to take care of him and had been rather bossy about it too. He’d not taken no for an answer; it had been his way or no way. He’d dealt with absolutely everything. He’d not only looked after him, cooked for them both but also kept the house clean and neat and wined and dined his friends when they’d come over to visit.

They’d met Caleb and Stefan in a nearby coffee shop and throughout the two hours the four of them had spent in the café, Draco had fussed over him, making sure he was comfortable, had enough to drink and finished his food. Harry had been loath to admit it but he’d rather enjoyed the attention and he’d especially relished in the fact that his on-the-job injury had led to a ceasefire between Caleb and Draco and instead of constantly bickering with each other, they’d had a perfectly normal conversation. It had been one of those once-in-a-blue-moon miracles and Harry treasured the memory dearly.

“I’ll walk you up,” Narcissa said before Harry could properly lose himself on a trip down memory lane and nodding, he quietly followed her out of the room and upstairs.

She led him to one of the guest rooms, then promptly left him to his own devices, giving him some much-needed privacy. Staring at the large four-poster bed, Harry instantly felt the intense pull of it.

Every single bone inside his body wanted to sleep and the large canopy bed looked so inviting that he couldn’t help but wonder whether there was a spell on it that was supposed to draw him in and make him want to crawl under the covers to get some rest. He dismissed that idea as complete nonsense — it was most likely just his sleepy brain playing wicked tricks on him. Although, to tell the truth, he wouldn’t put it past Narcissa to be wicked enough to do such a thing. Molly had certainly done it more than once and especially when Ron had still been with the Aurors.

Harry lingered by the door for a moment and although he had kind of promised Narcissa to do as told, he couldn’t quite resist the temptation to slip out of the room and head upstairs to check on Draco anyway.

He hesitated for several seconds, then resolutely turned around and pulled the heavy oak door open, only to find himself face to face with none other than Narcissa Malfoy, who slowly crossed her arms over her chest and looked absolutely menacing.

She raised a questioning eyebrow at Harry and although it rarely happened these days, he could feel himself start to flush and as his cheeks slowly turned pink, he fervently tried to think of something to say.

“Er, wrong door, I’m looking for the bathroom.”

Narcissa smirked.

“You truly have a thing for rule-breaking, Harry, don’t you?”

Harry hastily averted his eyes and wordlessly pushed the door closed again.

The last he wanted was Narcissa Malfoy disciplining him for his attempt to slip out of the room to go and find Draco. He sighed softly and abandoning any further attempts to try and find his little prince — he simply wasn’t in the right frame of mind to try to apparate, although he had the sneaky feeling that the Manor’s wards wouldn’t allow him to do so anyway — he headed for the en-suite bathroom instead and locked the door behind him.

Leaning against it for a few moments, Harry pushed his glasses off his face and rubbing his tired eyes, he let out an audible breath, a deep weary sigh.

Something told him that Draco, given the circumstances, was fine, and while the urge to be with him refused to dissipate, Harry managed to redirect his focus for a while.

He stripped naked, folded his clothes neatly and walked into the spacious shower room. He flicked the taps on and simply let the hot water cascade down over him for the longest time before he finally found the energy to wash his hair and his body with the shampoo and body wash inside the shower room.

Some fifteen minutes later he turned the water off, stepped out of the shower, slipped into a fluffy white bathrobe, and retrieved his wand and glasses. He pulled Draco’s collar out of his trouser pocket, restored it to its original size and briefly hitting his hair with a half-hearted drying charm, he made his way back into the bedroom where he found a tray with steaming hot tea, freshly toasted bread, a hard-boiled egg, some bacon rashers and a bowl of yoghurt with fresh strawberries waiting for him.

The smell of food made his stomach rumble and despite Harry’s earlier insistence that he wasn’t hungry, he now couldn’t stop himself from devouring the food.

Afterwards, he drew the curtains with the help of a spell, pulled the heavy bed covers back and slipping underneath, he pulled them up to his nose and was fast asleep less than a minute later.

* * *

 


	64. A Walk By The Manor's Lake (And Draco's Biggest Secret)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been an exhausting day and I don't have much to say. My cat is giving me the evil eye for being up this late and my brain shut down a long time ago.
> 
> Still, this chapter was my absolute favourite to write, everything about it gave me the feels while I created it. It was months ago but I just gave it another read through and a final edit and it still gives me all the feels and I really, truly hope it does the same for you, at least a little bit.
> 
> Love,  
> Selly X

* * *

Harry woke up several hours later, feeling decidedly refreshed and a lot less grouchy. He slept extremely well and spontaneously decided that after a sleepless night filled with panic and worry, the rest Narcissa had practically forced on him, had done him the world of good. He resolved to thank her for it as soon as possible.

As he stretched luxuriously, he was pleased to discover that his headache was gone and slowly rolling onto his back, he stared up at the bed’s canopy. The heavy drapery was midnight blue in colour and tiny silver stars flittered across the charmed fabric — Harry very much tried not to think of Ravenclaw but failed rather spectacularly and allowed himself a silly moment to chuckle at his own thoughts.

On a second glance, Harry decided that the canopy resembled a clear night sky and he let a few minutes pass while his eyes followed the slow-moving stars. He spotted a shooting star and although he didn’t believe in divination, he couldn’t help but close his eyes and make a wish — in it, he expressed the strong desire for Draco to be all right and for their relationship to still be rock solid. That was all he wanted, anything else was just a bonus.

He indulged in another stretch, then resolutely swung his legs out of bed and while doing so, he retrieved Draco’s collar from underneath his pillow. He clasped his fingers around it, rubbed his thumb over the soft leather and letting out a low sigh, he lifted his wand to draw the heavy curtains in front of the large windows.

Bright sunshine instantly flooded the room and Harry instantly squeezed his eyes shut, not yet ready for so much light. After several moments of darkness, he slowly opened his eyes and blinked a few times to adjust his vision.

Once he could see clearly again, he discovered his clothes on a chair across from the bed. While he’d slept, someone had clearly folded them into a neat pile and he very much suspected that the elves had cleaned them for him.

He glanced at his watch and discovering that it was already past three in the afternoon, he hastily divested himself of his bathrobe and put his clothes back on.

A brief check in the mirror told him that he looked presentable. He shrunk the collar with a tap of his wand and shoved it back inside his trouser pocket, then holstered his wand and left the room with the very intention to find Draco.

Now that he’d had some sleep, he wasn’t going to take _no_ for an answer, not from Narcissa and not from anyone — he was going to see Draco and make sure that he was all right and nothing and nobody was going to stop him from doing so. He absolutely was a man on a mission.

It took him a while to get orientated — and headed down the wrong corridor twice — but eventually, he managed to find his way through the Manor and upstairs to Draco’s old living quarters. He found the door wide open and walking inside, he heard Narcissa’s quiet calming voice. It came from the bedroom and heading for the door that connected the informal living room with Draco’s massive bedroom, Harry knocked on the half-open door and poked his head through.

“Hello,” he said softly, greeting both Narcissa and Draco.

Harry's eyes were instantly drawn to his precious little prince.

Draco was sitting upright in the bed, albeit propped up against a ridiculous number of pillows, and Narcissa, who’d meanwhile dressed a little more appropriately, compared to this morning, had perched herself on the edge of her son’s large four-poster bed.

Following his knock, she turned her head and greeted him with a warm welcoming smile.

“Harry. Did you get some rest?”

Harry nodded distractedly.

His complete focus was already on Draco, who looked extremely pale, even more so than he usually did — his current paleness was of the unhealthy sort and Harry didn’t like it much. He appeared tired and seemed twice as exhausted as Harry himself had felt like this morning. Harry’s heart lurched and the unquenchable need to protect Draco flooded him.

Draco was listlessly nibbling on a slice of dry toast with a bit of butter and Harry suspected that Narcissa had made him eat it. He also couldn’t help but note that Draco’s movements were sluggish and lacked a great deal of energy. He had dark circles under his eyes and something fierce inside Harry’s chest broke a few times — he did not want to see Draco like this, it was utterly painful. He desperately wanted to move across the room, envelop Draco in a fierce hug and never ever let him go again.

“The potions haven’t quite worn off yet,” Narcissa explained unnecessarily.

She slowly rose to her feet and while doing so, she gently caressed Draco’s cheek.

“Sweetheart,” she whispered, “Harry woke up, he’s come up to see you.”

Draco made a vague attempt at looking into his direction and steadfastly crossing the room, Harry wordlessly sat down on the bed and gently pulled Draco into a hug. Draco came willingly and wrapping his arms around him, Harry held on tight.

“I’m here, my little prince, you’re safe, I’m here with you and I’m not leaving. I’m not going to let anything or anyone hurt you, I promise.”

Harry very quietly whispered the words directly into Draco’s ear and felt him relax into the embrace.

Narcissa cleared her throat and not letting go of Draco, Harry turned his head and met her gaze.

It was warm and loving and she smiled. She looked positively reassured rather than put off but Harry’s blatant display of affection for her only son.

“It looks like I’m no longer needed. I’ll give you two boys some privacy. You need it.”

Harry mouthed a silent _thanks_ and she nodded, then turned on her heel and disappeared out of sight, closing the door behind her.

Once she’d left, Harry turned his attention back to Draco. He pulled out of the embrace and gently cradled Draco’s face in his hands, holding it like it was his most precious possession, which really, Draco was.

“Hey,” he whispered very softly.

Draco blinked several times and looked at him with a weary expression.

“Harry,” he mumbled, then relaxed back into the pillows.

It was quite apparent that he had no energy for anything and Harry didn’t begrudge him the desire to rest — considering the potions cocktail the healers had given Draco to calm him down, he was a little surprised Draco was able to sit upright so soon after. Harry saved the half-eaten slice of toast from landing on top of the heavy covers and offered it to Draco, who shook his head and quite childishly pursed his lips tightly together and rejected the bland food.

“You should eat a little more, it’s delicious.”

Harry tore off a small piece of toast and offered that to Draco, feeling very much like he was tending to a sick child rather than his adult boyfriend, but right this moment, the only thing that really mattered was that Draco needed looking after and he was here to do just that.

“Not hungry.”

Draco rejected the food and petulantly turned his head away.

Harry smiled, popped the piece of toast into his own mouth and chewing, he deposited the remaining half of the crispy buttered bread on a plate on Draco’s nightstand. He then kicked his shoes off, crawled onto the bed and under the covers and pulled Draco into his arms.

“How about a little more sleep? It’ll do you the world of good and I promise I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

Draco hummed in approval but said nothing else — he clearly didn’t have the necessary strength to do so. Instead, he buried his face in Harry’s chest, sneaked his arms around Harry’s body and curled up at his side, attempting to disappear into his body.

Harry gently combed his fingers through Draco’s soft silken hair.

Draco let out a little sigh and his breathing gradually slowed.

A moment later, he was fast asleep in Harry’s arms and kissing the top of his head, Harry continued to run his fingers through Draco’s hair, lest the lack of comfort woke him from his light slumber. He highly doubted that even the blast of a Reductor Curse would manage to wake Draco but he still wanted to give him the feeling of being completely at ease.

“Yes, that’s it, you just sleep for however long you need to. I’ll stay with you; I won’t go anywhere, my precious little prince.”

Harry fully intended on keeping his promise and closing his eyes, he relaxed and emptied is mind. He wasn’t ready to think yet, all he wanted was to hold Draco for as long as he needed the silent solace and so that was exactly what he did.

He got up at some point to empty his bladder but otherwise, he stayed right there, curled around Draco, holding him as he slept soundly in his arms.

The afternoon turned into evening and Narcissa stopped by to ask if he might join her for dinner. He politely declined and instead of pushing him to vacate Draco’s bed, she merely smiled and told him that she’d get one of the elves to bring up some food.

True to her word and less than half an hour later, a small elf with the sweetest voice brought up a big tray of food for him and Harry left Draco’s bed for as long as it took him to finish the meal — which really wasn’t very long. He tried to wake Draco and get him to eat but Draco opened his eyes for all but two seconds, blinked twice, then turned around, curled into a small ball, and continued to sleep.

Sometime close to midnight, Harry divested himself off his clothes, apart from his boxer briefs which he did not take off, and spooning around Draco, he drew his wand and summoned his Patronus — the incantation was so familiar to him that he barely needed to say it aloud. He instructed the magnificent silver stag to deliver a message to the Burrow and asked for one of his friends to make a trip to Grimmauld Place to pick up some clothes for him and have them owled to Malfoy Manor.

Harry suspected that he could floo from the Manor straight to his home and even though he knew that the trip wouldn’t take him more than ten minutes, he couldn’t bring himself to leave Draco for that long, mainly because he had made a promise but also because hugging Draco simply felt so utterly good and right — he was meant to be there with Draco, keeping him company, and there was nothing that could change his mind about that. He fervently hoped that his prolonged embrace was helping Draco at least a little.

About an hour after he’d sent off his Patronus, a very familiar brown barn owl arrived at the Manor. He flew through the open window of Draco’s bedroom and landed on the bed. Harry hastily sat up and relieved Charlie’s faithful owl of its package, then profusely apologised for not having any owl treats at hand.

Charlie’s owl hooted, gave him a quite disapproving look, and then took flight. Once it had left, Harry restored the package to its original size and unwrapping it, he found two pairs of trousers, two shirts, some underwear, and fresh socks inside. It also contained a small bottle of lube with a note attached to it that read:  
  
  
_**Just in case -CW**_ **.**  
  
  
Harry rolled his eyes and made a mental note to hex Charlie’s balls to the North Pole when he next saw him, then levitated the fresh clothes and the bottle of lube over to a nearby armchair and putting his glasses down on the nightstand, he extinguished the green bedside lamp, pulled the heavy duvet over himself, and shuffled as close to Draco as he possibly could. He hugged him tight, dropped a soft kiss onto Draco’s exposed shoulder blade, then closed his eyes was fast asleep within minutes.

He woke up a few hours later and feeling somewhat disoriented and it took him a few minutes to remember that he was neither at Grimmauld Place nor in Draco’s flat in Notting Hill but rather at Malfoy Manor and in the bed, Draco had slept in when he’d been a teenage boy.

Harry blinked a few times, rolled onto his back, and tiredly extended his arm. He groped around for his glasses but stopped when Draco — even without his glasses Harry could tell that the blurry mess of white-blond hair belonged to Draco — cheekily dangled his glasses above his face. He snatched them up, pushed them onto his nose and as his vision cleared, he found himself looking up at Draco.

His beautiful silvery-grey eyes no longer appeared foggy and unfocused but clear and bright and while he was, as always, pale, much of that sickly hue that had given him a ghostly appearance the day before, had disappeared.

“What time is it?” he asked.

He still felt a bit groggy and quite sleepy, which he suspected was down to the fact that he’d spent the majority of the last day and a half in bed with Draco, doing nothing but holding him.

Draco’s long fingers gently closed around his wrist and he tugged on his arm, pulling it closer to his face. He stared at his wristwatch, then looked back at Harry’s face and smiled.

“Ten past five,” he said.

“In the morning?”

Draco nodded.

Harry let out a groan, rolled onto his stomach and buried his face between two fluffy pillows.

“For Merlin’s sake, Draco, _why_?”

“Just because.”

Harry grumbled into the sheets and slithered underneath the covers, where it was cosy and warm and dark.

Draco laughed softly, then pulled the covers back and Harry shuffled to lie on his side. He tried his best to put on his most menacing look and glower at Draco but failed miserably. After the mess the last forty-eight hours had been, the fact that Draco was up, looking refreshed and even appeared amused meant everything to Harry and reaching out, he cupped Draco’s cheek, toyed with his unruly bed hair, then pulled him close and kissed him, gently, softly, unhurriedly.

He pulled away a few moments later, caressed Draco’s cheek with his thumb and smiled.

“How are you feeling?”

Draco scrunched up his face a little and sighed.

“I’ve got a bit of a headache but otherwise I feel fine,” he said.

“Good.”

“I feel like I slept for two days straight.”

Harry grinned lopsidedly.

“You pretty much did.”

He leant close and placed a fluttering butterfly kiss on top of Draco’s nose, then pulled him into his arms and squeezed, holding him as tightly as he could without crushing Draco or constricting his breathing in any way.

Draco responded by snuggling right into his embrace and practically trying to bury his face in Harry’s bare chest.

“I want you all around me,” he whispered.

With a kiss to the top of Draco’s head and a low chuckle, Harry moved his leg over Draco’s thighs and dug his heel in Draco’s buttock, pulling him an impossible inch closer.

“Better?” he asked.

Draco nodded and exhaled slowly.

His warm breath tickled Harry’s chest and his lips were entirely too soft not to be at least a little arousing. Draco wedged one leg between Harry’s parted legs, wound the other one around Harry’s outstretched one and puckering his lips, he pressed a kiss to Harry’s chest.

Harry ran his fingers through Draco’s unkempt hair, then let his fingertips slide down the centre of his back. He splayed his fingers out across Draco’s lower back and just let them rest there. He closed his eyes and listening to Draco’s steady breathing, he simply enjoyed the closeness.

“You’d make such a good kitty.”

Harry couldn’t resist teasing after a few minutes of comfortable silence and because he’d convinced himself that Draco had fallen asleep again.

Draco chuckled into his chest, then moved his head back and looked right at Harry.

“Meow,” he said with a cheeky grin, then pretended to lick Harry.

Harry rolled his eyes but pressed a kiss to his lips anyway. Afterwards, he moved his mouth to Draco’s ear.

“I mean, with a cute set of fake cat ears, a collar, and a butt plug with a fake furry tail.”

Draco shuddered a little, then tilted his head back and looked at him.

“Why bother with the fake cat ears and butt plug and tail. Harry, you’re a wizard, just charm them on me.”

Harry snorted, a pathetic attempt at suppressing his laughter. He failed rather spectacularly at keeping even a little bit of decorum.

The image of Draco with charmed fake cat ears and a charmed fake cat tail was too ridiculous.

The situation was surreal.

Less than two days ago Draco had fled Pandora’s Box due to an unexpected panic attack, Harry still didn’t know the details but intended not to push Draco for them until a bit later in the day, and now it was about five thirty in the morning and they were lying curled up in each other’s arms in Draco’s massive four-poster bed on the top floor of Malfoy Manor, lazily joking about pet play.

Despite the oddity of it, there was also a certain warmth to this very private moment between them. To Harry, it was a testament to their close connection and the level of intimacy. Only trust and love were powerful enough to turn a terrifying experience into a special bonding moment.

“Then I might as well just transfigure you into a ferret straight away and have you curl up in my lap.”

Usually, Draco reacted rather unfavourably whenever anyone reminded him of the ferret incident in their fourth year but this time, he merely chuckled softly and his eyes twinkled with definite amusement.

“You wouldn’t want that, I’d bite…”

Harry grinned.

“Lucky for me bestiality is a hard limit,” he said and combing his fingers through Draco’s hair, he drew him into a lazy kiss.

They snuggled and dozed for about another hour before Draco suggested a shower but when they got to Draco’s large childhood bathroom, he changed his mind and said he wanted a soak in the tub instead.

Harry, loathe to deny those pleading silvery-grey eyes and pouting lips anything, simply nodded and while Draco sat on the edge of the large bathtub and waited, he filled it with hot water, a bubble bath solution, and a few essential oils. He made Draco get in first, then climbed in after him, pulled him into his arms and their continued to snuggle until it was, once again, Harry who made the first move and summoning a bottle of Draco’s favourite shampoo from the walk-in shower, he lathered Draco’s hair with it and massaged it into his scalp while thoroughly washing his hair.

After rinsing the water out, Draco turned in his arms, stole a kiss, and then looked at him for a full minute.

“Can I return the favour?” he asked quietly.

Harry wordlessly handed him the bottle of shampoo, then slid down in the water to wet his hair properly and sitting in the tub, with his eyes firmly closed, he let Draco wash his hair, even allowed him to take his sweet time with it. Draco’s long nimble fingers wound and twisted his way through Harry’s dark curls and he let out a sigh of contentment.

“I like this,” Draco whispered.

Harry, cautious not to get shampoo into his eyes, carefully opened only one eye and looked at Draco with a warm smile.

“It sure feels nice.”

“I want to do this more often, do something that pleases you and makes you feel good.”

Harry closed his eye again and hummed in approval. He let his inner Dom respond.

“I’ll never stop you from pleasing me, Draco,” he said softly.

For a moment, Draco’s hands stilled in his hair. The pleasantly warm water inside the enormous tub sloshed around them and Harry felt Draco lean close and tentatively kiss him on the lips.

“I love you,” he whispered.

Draco resumed massaging his scalp and Harry smiled softly.

“Love you too, my little prince,” he said a short while later.

When Draco finished with his hair, he ducked underneath the water’s surface to wash out all the soapy shampoo, then leant back in the tub and stretched his legs out. He idly toyed with the copious amount of bubbles on the surface and when Draco climbed into his lap and straddled him, he simply squeezed Draco’s hips and let his hands rest there afterwards.

Draco leant forward, braced himself on the edge of the tub just behind Harry’s shoulders and kissed him. It was a slow and sweet kiss and Harry wasn’t even in the least bit tempted to take control of it. He let it happen, just like that, and thoroughly enjoyed the sloth-like undemanding familiarity of Draco’s lips moving against his own and his tongue unhurriedly finding its way into his mouth, seeking out his tongue and playfully toying with it.

Harry squeezed Draco’s hips and slowly sliding his wet hands up Draco’s smooth back, he pulled him closer and Draco came willingly, pressed his body against Harry’s as he tried to get as close as possible. Harry locked his arms around Draco’s torso and slid a little bit deeper into the water, which he’d charmed to remain hot.

His body reacted to the wet warmth of Draco’s body draped all over him and he gently thrust his hips up. Draco responded with pressing his hips down and they lazily moved in perfect unison, teasing each other until their breathing grew laboured and their kiss was no longer a gentle, slow-moving snog but rather a fervent battle of the tongues.

It took Harry every ounce of effort, and several attempts, to break away since Draco kept chasing his lips, wanting more, wanting for their kiss to continue, but Harry cupped Draco’s face with his hands and somehow managed to appease him with a ticklish and wet peck to the nose. He then disentangled himself from underneath Draco’s long limbs and climbed out of the tub.

Draco went to protest but Harry placed a finger across his lips and shook his head, silencing him with the gentlest of gestures. He then pulled Draco to his feet, helped him to climb out of the tub and the moment he stood next to him, Harry wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist and picking him up, he unceremoniously carried him out of the bathroom and back into Draco’s childhood bedroom. Draco’s lack of protest mildly surprised him but instead of dwelling on it, Harry carried him over to the bed and gently eased him on top of the covers.

He really didn’t care that they both were still dripping wet and were, therefore, soaking the sheets but simply crawled after Draco, who let his legs fall open to welcome him, then loosely locked them low around his waist. Draco’s arms wound themselves around his neck and Harry only barely braced himself on his arms as he leant down to kiss Draco hotly and plunged his tongue deep into his mouth.

Draco arched his back, moaned into the kiss, and tightened his hold on Harry, making it blatantly obvious that he wasn’t going to let go of him any time soon. Harry didn’t mind. He was quite content to remain right where he was, on top of Draco, leisurely thrusting his hips and sliding his hard cock against Draco’s, relishing in the delicious shocks of friction the movement provided.

Their wet bodies slid together effortlessly and with the finesse of two people who knew each other reasonably well, yet, at the same time, still had to learn a lot about each other.

With no intention to speed things up or finish anytime soon, Harry kept the pace of his thrusts slow and allowed enough time between them for Draco to arch his back and reciprocate.

At some point they broke their heated kiss and shifting his weight to better brace himself on one arm, Harry cupped Draco’s cheek softly. He let his fingers slip along the side of Draco’s neck and caressed the wet smooth hair at the nape of Draco’s neck. He stroked his thumb over Draco’s flushed cheek and smiled.

“You’re gorgeous and perfect and wonderful and I love you very much, my sweet little prince,” he whispered.

Draco looked up at him and Harry watched as his eyes filled with tears and he blinked rapidly, trying to stop himself from letting them fall.

“Please,” Draco breathed.

He clearly didn’t trust himself to speak any louder than that and Harry smiled encouragingly. He knew what Draco wanted, what he needed, and he wasn’t going to pressure him into saying it but wasn’t at all surprised when Draco asked for it anyway.

“I need you inside me, I need to feel you inside me, please,” he pleaded, quietly, desperately.

His voice was almost inaudible and Harry kissed him softly.

“Anything for you, my precious little prince.”

Harry summoned the bottle of lube and letting go of Draco’s cheek, he caught it easily but for the time being, he shoved it underneath the pillows, then focused his attention back onto Draco.

He kissed him softly, then peppered his face with tiny, sweet kisses. He moved along the side of his neck, kissed along his collarbone and down the centre of his chest, making sure to lavish each pert nipple with plenty of attention.

Draco’s quiet moans and laboured breathing filled the room and he kept one hand tightly wound into Harry’s wet and unruly hair while twisting the fingers of his other hand around the bed covers. Harry didn’t begrudge him the desire to hold on to something to ground himself and continued to shower Draco with kisses. He pressed his lips to every inch of Draco’s torso that he could comfortably reach and while steadily travelling south, he took his sweet, sweet time getting there.

Draco didn’t beg and he didn’t plead. Instead, he whimpered and mewled and his entire body trembled and shivered as he slowly but steadily lost himself in the flood of sensations.

Harry couldn’t remember ever having been quite this gentle with Draco — and they’d made love like this a fair few times — but this morning he made every effort to impress Draco with proof as to how much he cared about him and how much he loved him.

Whatever parts of Draco he couldn’t comfortably reach with his lips without twisting himself in an awkward position, Harry caressed with his fingertips. The outside of Draco’s thighs, the inside, his sides, the back of his knee, his calves, and his sensitive feet.

By the time he finally reached Draco’s cock, Draco bent his legs at the knees and allowed them to fall open for Harry to continue to cover him with tender kisses. He kissed along the inside of Draco’s thighs, kissed his balls, which felt tight and firm underneath his lips, evidence of just how much Draco was enjoying himself. He kissed Draco’s cock, kissed every inch of it, then wrapped his lips around the sensitive, reddened head and sucked Draco into his mouth, taking him as deeply as he could.

He bobbed his head softly, gently and used his lips and tongue to worship the hard, long flesh. It pulsed and throbbed in his mouth and as Harry sucked on it, he blindly groped for the bottle of lube. He found it effortlessly and lathering his fingers with the now warm thick liquid, he teased along Draco’s perineum and slowly worked his way to his hole, covering it with much more lube than strictly necessary.

Harry teased the tight ring of muscle, drawing circle after circle over the fluttering skin.

Draco arched his back in response. He gasped and moaned and Harry sucked harder, brought him just that little bit closer to the edge. He gently pressed his index finger to Draco’s hole and instead of tensing up, the muscle relaxed and his finger slipped inside, effortlessly so.

He very slowly pushed it all the way in, allowed it to linger for a few moments, then slowly withdrew it. He pressed his finger back inside, circled his fingertip over Draco’s prostate and letting his cock slip from his mouth, he shuffled up so that he could look at Draco, who stared up at him with wide watery eyes. His mouth hung open, his chest heaved and his cheeks were a glorious shade of pink. Harry covered his lips with his mouth and kissed him fiercely, possessively.

 _You’re mine_ , he thought but instead of saying those words he told Draco that he loved him, repeatedly.

Draco blinked and a single tear slipped over the rim of his eyes and silently rolled down his cheek. Harry kissed it away, then gently teased his finger out of Draco and reached for the bottle of lube. He coated his cock with plenty of the clear liquid, then positioned it at Draco’s hole and pressed against it but didn’t breach the muscle just yet.

“I need you,” Draco breathed. “Please.”

“My perfect little prince, you are everything I always wanted,” Harry whispered.

He pushed inside and the moment that he did Draco let out a wretched sob. He arched his back, threw his head back, dug the heels of his feet into the mattress and grabbed Harry’s shoulders so hard that it hurt enough for Harry to grimace at the obvious discomfort of it all.

Still, he didn’t tell Draco to stop, didn’t move his hands away. No, he pushed further into Draco, gave him the chance to adjust, to breathe through the burn as Harry stretched his tight channel wide open and while he gave him that moment, he looked down at Draco and smiled, softly, tenderly, lovingly.

He combed his fingers through Draco’s wet hair, kissed him softly and when Draco shed a couple more tears, he kissed those away too, then started to move slowly. His thrusts were unhurried, sweet, and designed to prolong the pleasure of their love-making, not finish things off in a matter of minutes.

“Harry,” Draco breathed.

Another sob escaped him and Harry rocked his hips and kissed him.

“Let it out,” he encouraged. “I’m here, I’ve got you, my sweet little prince. You’ll be safe with me for as long as I’m the one you want to protect you.”

Harry words, along with the strain of what had happened at the club and the intensity of their connection opened Draco’s floodgates and he cried in earnest. His heavy sobs echoed around the room and thick hot tears spilt over his eyes as he clawed into Harry’s back, digging his fingernails deep into his skin, and locked his arms and legs around him.

“Ssh, my love, I’m with you, you’re safe, I’ve got you. Everything will be all right, I promise you.”

Harry repeatedly whispered sweet words of reassurance into Draco’s ear and when he kissed him, he poured every ounce of love and devotion he felt for Draco into the gesture.

It didn’t take long for Draco’s sobs to subside and while his cheeks remained tear-streaked and wet, he was no longer crying but panting softly as he struggled to supply his lungs with enough oxygen to satisfy the high demand his body had for it.

By the time Harry finally wrapped his hand around Draco’s achingly hard cock and stroked it in time with his thrusts, bringing both himself and Draco over the edge, it felt like half an eternity had passed. They climaxed within seconds of each other; Harry buried deep inside Draco’s arse as strong muscles spasmed around his throbbing hard cock and Draco because the stimulation to both his prostate and his cock had become too much to take.

Afterwards, Harry pulled out of Draco, rolled to his side and enveloped Draco in his arms, holding him tight and allowing him all the time in the world to come down from his high.

They both fell into a post-orgasmic slumber and napped for the better part of an hour before Harry could convince Draco to have a quick shower.

This time around, they behaved. They dressed in silence and just when they were about to leave Draco’s bedroom and make their way downstairs, Draco slipped his hand into Harry’s and stopped him from walking through the open door to his bedroom.

Harry turned around.

“What?” he asked.

“Thank you.”

Harry smiled.

“You’re welcome.”

 Draco took a step closer and instead of holding hands, Harry sneaked his arm around his waist and squeezed his hip.

“Let’s get some food. I’m absolutely famished and you haven’t eaten more than half a slice of toast since yesterday afternoon. I am taking the liberty to order you to eat a ridiculous amount of food.”

Draco grinned.

“Yes, Sir,” he said, then mock-saluted.

Harry rolled his eyes and they silently made their way downstairs.

Despite walking next to each other, Draco walked about half a step behind him and the while Harry was acutely aware of the tiny, almost indiscernible act of submission, he didn’t point it out in any way but treasured it silently.

They found Narcissa in her private parlour, reading a book, though when she saw Draco, she immediately put it down and rose to her feet.

“Well, it seems that two days of sleep and a bit of tender loving care from your Mr Potter did you the world of good, Draco,” she said, her expression warm, open and welcoming.

Draco rolled his eyes at his mother.

“Don’t mock, Mother,” he said.

“I would never.”

Narcissa smiled though there was a definite mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

Harry could tell that it was taking her every effort not cross the room to fuss over her son and he suspected that this was part of why she was hiding behind a healthy dose sarcasm — that and because the only person Draco could have inherited his sassy disposition from was his mother.

Still, Harry’s heart skipped a beat at Narcissa’s resolve and her determination to leave it up to him to fuss over her only son, her pride and joy. He had to admit that the more time he spent in her company, the more he realised that Narcissa Malfoy was growing on him. He doubted he’d ever have as good a relationship with her as he had with Molly Weasley but part of him most definitely admired her.

She’d made mistakes during the war, certainly, but through standing by her son, even though it had meant giving up her marriage, and allowing him to become the man he wanted to be, she’d atoned for all of them. Harry respected that.

One look into her eyes told him that she loved her son more than anything in the world and that would do everything in her power to protect him for as long as she lived. It reminded him of what his own mother had done for him and feeling rather sentimental, he blinked and pushed the memory firmly aside — now was not the time for that sort of reminiscing.

Harry squeezed Draco’s hip and conceded that he and Narcissa had one thing in common — they both loved Draco very much and he intended to do everything in his power to protect Draco for as long as he had the privilege to do so. It sounded utterly corny, even in his own head, but after the passionate way they’d made love this morning, Harry couldn’t care less about how besotted he was with Draco.

After a brief chat, during which Narcissa convinced herself that Draco had indeed recovered, at least physically, she summoned one of the Manor’s elves and asked for a second breakfast to be served here in the parlour and even though she’d already eaten, she offered her company, which Draco enthusiastically accepted. While they waited for the elves to put together a breakfast, Harry sat back in one of the comfortable armchairs by the window, rested his arms on the armrests on either side and threw one leg over the other. He relaxed back into the cushions behind him and was content to remain quiet as Draco picked up his mother’s book and glared at it — Emily Brontë’s _Wuthering Heights_.

“Haven’t you read this before, Mother?” he asked.

“Yes, many times. But a classic novel such as this one is always worth a second or third read. Or even a tenth,” Narcissa said.

“I don’t know what you see in it, Mother. There isn’t a single trait of character in the entire book that could command even a tiny amount of admiration. It a strange book, truly savage. Wild, confused and disjointed.”

Narcissa smiled and took the slightly tattered book from Draco. She twisted the well-worn copy around, then placed a bookmark inside it and snapped it closed.

“And yet when you first read it, you found it impossible to begin and not to finish it just as you found it impossible to cast aside afterwards without devoting an entire evening to a passionate monologue on how diabolical you found it. If that doesn’t tell you anything about the quality of Emily’s writing or the powerfulness of the tale in its entirety, then I don’t know.”

Harry, mildly surprised by the underlying passion in Narcissa’s voice, found it difficult to believe that a woman such as Narcissa Malfoy, raised to uphold twisted ideals of the superiority of purebloods, was able to show such intense enthusiasm for a 150-year-old classic novel written by a Muggle woman, yet when he thought about it, it made perfect sense.

Narcissa Malfoy was a woman of character, who’d been raised to show restraint even in the direst circumstances, but she was also, without the shadow of a doubt, a fiercely passionate woman who was well able to stand her ground and insist on making herself heard if she so desired — in fact, Harry had experienced her true nature himself the previous day when she’d all but ordered him to go to bed and have a rest before he took on the straining task of caring for her son. Of course, she wasn’t the type of woman who shied away from devoting her time to an excellent book simply because a Muggle had written it.

Harry suppressed a chuckle and thought that Narcissa Malfoy was quite the feminist woman, even though one had to look deep to find the characteristics that made her one — she was careful not to let the cat out of the bag too soon, no, she was the type of woman who used her divine right to be heard as the ultimate weapon. With her, it was the final blow that came just after she’d forced you to her knees and made it so you had no way of rising to your feet again.

Draco and his mother hotly debated the contents of the book for another fifteen minutes and with each minute that ticked by and each passionately-spoken word that left Draco’s mouth, Harry found himself spellbound by how easily Draco managed to draw him in, even made him want to participate in the conversation, although since Harry hadn’t read the book himself, he refrained from contributing anything to the parley lest he ended up embarrassing himself in front of both his boyfriend _and_ his boyfriend’s mother.

Harry couldn’t exactly put his finger on what it was that kept him hooked on whatever Draco was saying. He did it whenever he stood up in court and argued a case and he was doing it now. The carefully-chosen words and the sheer power behind them, the absolute conviction with which he said them.

Right this moment, as Draco passionately defended his opinions, he was showing extraordinary strength of character and as Harry sat there, watching Draco, and listening to him he couldn’t help but allow his thoughts to stray — this was how most people saw Draco. They saw the fierce prosecutor, the feisty Slytherin, the sassy tall handsome young man who, at some point after the war, had learnt to stand up for himself and what he believed in.

That was the only side of himself, Draco was willing to share with the world and Harry didn’t think that this was something that would ever change — Draco was too proud to strip away his protective layers and expose his vulnerable side to a stranger. Yet somehow, Harry had become the one person in Draco’s life who had the privilege to see the real Draco Malfoy.

He was the one who got to see the tears and who could tell Draco what to do and not to do.

He was the person whom Draco got onto his knees for.

For him, Draco begged and pleaded.

In front of him, he cried, he was passionate, loving, completely mawkish and a true oddball.

For Harry, Draco did things he’d never done for anyone else and he did them willingly, without hesitation or backtalk.

He did them because he wanted to.

In just a little under a year, Draco had discovered his desire to please and to let go and he was, for the most part, entirely comfortable in that skin.

A rush of power surged through Harry and his left hand flew up to the dragon pendant, Charlie had given him. He squeezed his fingers around it and for a moment he relished in the hot and cold sensations that flowed from Aasymah into his hand and up his arm, then spread through the rest of his body.

He took a calming breath and when two house elves popped into the parlour and began to serve a lavish breakfast, Harry praised their existence. He absolutely needed the distraction and he also needed the sustenance and a strong cup of coffee.

Draco refrained from continuing the heated debate about the merits and shortcomings of _Wuthering Heights_ with his mother over breakfast and they mostly ate in silence.

Towards the end of the meal, Narcissa Malfoy excused herself and Harry moved from his chair to sit on the sofa next to Draco. He deliberately sat close enough for their bodies to touch from knee to shoulder and when Draco turned his head, he surprised him with a fierce kiss that ended with Harry pushing Draco into a rather compromising horizontal position.

“I’m not even going to ask what possessed you just now, but, Potter, this is my mother’s parlour and you will behave yourself or else I’m going to take a page out of your book and spank _your_ arse for a change.”

Draco still glowered darkly a whole minute after Harry had managed to finally restrain himself and sit back up and therefore allow Draco to do the same.

Harry grinned.

“I’d like to see you try, my love.”

He took Draco’s hand, placed it in his lap and turning it over, he rubbed his thumb over Draco’s palm, slowly edging it towards the pulse point on the inside of his wrist. Once he’d reached it, he began to circle it, slowly, gently.

“You’re a fiery dragon, aren’t you, my little prince?”

Draco made a strange noise, something between a strangled yelp and a half-suppressed whimper, and tried to pull his hand away but Harry simply tightened his hold on it.

“I’d really like to see you try to take a page out of my book, Draco Malfoy. You could do it; you’ve got the passion it takes but do you want me to let you in on a little secret?”

“What secret?” Draco squeaked.

He tried to pull his hand away again but Harry did not relent. He kept a firm hold on it and smiled a very predatory smile.

Draco’s cheeks turned red and he blinked rapidly.

“It’s just words, Draco. It’s hot air, that’s all it is, my little prince. For all your sass, with me, you have no desire to dominate, not even a little. You are an excellent prosecutor and out there in front of everyone else you are fierce and you are in complete control but in here with me, it’s the last thing you want. With me, you want to submit, you want to get on your knees and beg. You want ropes and restraints. You want a collar and a gag. You want to be my good little prince. You want to please me.”

Harry fell silent and held Draco’s gaze for a minute or two, then reached inside his pocket and pulled out Draco’s collar. He returned it to its original size and placing it in the palm of Draco’s hand, he closed his fingers around it.

“Or am I wrong?”

Draco’s face turned crimson and averting his eyes, he stared at the collar in his hands. He curled his fingers so tightly around it that his knuckles turned white and Harry silently placed his own hand on top Draco’s.

“I thought I’d lost it,” Draco mumbled, not lifting his head to look at Harry.

“I found it and kept it safe for you.”

Draco cleared his throat and shuffled.

“I couldn’t breathe, I had to get it off.”

He let out a deep sigh and gently placing two fingers underneath Draco’s chin, Harry prompted him to look at him. Draco slowly turned his head and smiled weakly.

“Will you tell me everything?” Harry asked.

Draco nodded, then rose to his feet.

“Let’s go for a walk, yeah?”

“Sure.”

Harry nodded and they exited the Manor through the parlour’s grand top-to-bottom French doors. They walked silently down the gravel path that led along the length of the Manor and as they slowly descended the impressive wide stone staircase that led away from the building and deep into the grounds, Draco slipped his hand into Harry’s and Harry squeezed it gently.

Draco led them towards the Manor’s lake and they crossed a stone footbridge, then walked alongside the lake’s shore until they reached an old wooden jetty that looked worryingly frail but proved to be surprisingly firm and sturdy beneath their feet. The fact that Draco, who’d confessed to him that he couldn’t swim, stepped right up to the very edge of the jetty, convinced Harry that he didn’t have to worry about jumping into the cold murky waters to rescue Draco from drowning.

Since it was only mid-March and rather chilly, Harry cast a warming charm around them, and smiling gratefully, Draco sat down on the jetty and patted the empty space beside him. Harry sat down next to him and they sat in silence for several minutes.

Draco stared out over the lake, then suddenly chuckled softly, and turned to look at Harry who raised a questioning eyebrow.

“I used to love playing by the lake when I was young but because I refused to learn how to swim, I regularly gave my mother a heart attack.”

Harry chuckled.

“Good to know that we were always a bit of a brat.”

Draco rolled his eyes.

“I think at some point Mother got Father to put up shield charms all around the lake so that there was no chance I’d ever fall into the water. I don’t know if he ever did though, probably not. He was the type of character who was more of the opinion that falling into the lake would teach me a valuable lesson. Oh well, it’s not like that matters now, he’s the one who’s in Azkaban.”

Harry swallowed the strong desire to take a trip to Azkaban and hex Lucius Malfoy into oblivion. Instead, he wrapped his arm around Draco’s shoulders, pulled him close and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek.

He could tell that Draco appreciated his lack of commentary and they sat in comfortable silence which Draco abruptly broke after a few minutes.

“The night of the battle, when Crabbe released the Fiendfyre,” he said quietly while staring out over the lake and nervously fiddling with the leather collar in his hand.

Harry kept silent and patiently waited for Draco to continue.

“I’m not quite sure when it happened or how but a couple of months after the war, that blasted cursed fire turned into my worst nightmare.”

Draco huffed, then rather abruptly let himself fall backwards and lay down his back on the old wooden jetty.

Harry smiled.

Draco bent his legs at the knees and turning his head sideways, he looked up at Harry.

“Late November, 1998,” he said. “You were already in Canada, right?”

Harry nodded.

“I was.”

“I was in the drawing room with Mother. I’d been up in my room studying all weekend and I remember mother calling me down to keep her company for a bit, so I grabbed all my books and joined her. She was reading something or other, I don’t remember. Probably Wuthering Heights, I swear she’s obsessed with Heathcliff, Merlin knows why, the book is—”

Draco paused and let out a dry sort of laugh, then stifled it after a few seconds.

“Anyway, I remember the fire went out or was about to go out and so Mother drew her wand and, well that’s when it happened. I saw the sparks fly out of her wand out of the corner of my eye and I saw the flames in the hearth and my brain thought Fiendfyre and it all went downhill from there. I had a panic attack of epic proportions and Mother had to get me to St Mungo’s—”

Draco trailed off again and with his fingers still wrapped around the collar, he moved to fold his arms underneath his head, forming a makeshift pillow.

Harry rested his hand on Draco’s knee and squeezed gently.

“Do you remember that day when I pestered you about all your scars?” Draco asked.

Harry nodded.

“You told me the mind healer in Canada put you on an exquisite mix of mind-altering potions, well, now you know why I could list them all.”

“You did make me a bit suspicious but then again you did always have a bit of an aptitude for potions.”

Draco laughed.

“Not as much as Granger or you in sixth year.”

“I cheated.”

Draco rolled his eyes.

“I know _that_ , Potter. You were abysmal at Potions year one through five, nobody suddenly gets _this_ bloody brilliant at brewing complex potions overnight.”

Harry smiled.

“Your godfather helped.”

Draco quirked a questioning eyebrow at him.

“That tattered old potions book I kept using? That was Severus Snape’s book.”

Draco laughed and the cheeky twinkle in his eyes made Harry’s heart flutter.

“Potter, you are a sneaky fucking bastard, you were most definitely sorted into the wrong house.”

Harry grinned.

“Want to know another secret, Malfoy?”

Draco nodded.

“Absolutely.”

“The Sorting Hat wanted to put me into Slytherin. I refused so he put me into Gryffindor instead.”

“Oh, you truly are a sly snake, aren’t you, Potter! I can’t believe we’ve been together for nearly a year and you never bothered to tell me that. I dread to think what other secrets you are hiding.”

Harry chuckled.

“At this stage, Malfoy, I don’t have any secrets anymore. You know them all, including my penchant for tying up a certain naughty bratty little Slytherin prince and spanking his arse until it glows red and throbs beautifully.”

Draco glowered up at him and attempted to kick him but Harry was a split-second faster and catching Draco’s leg, he placed it over his lap and kept it pinned down. Draco struggled for a moment, then let out an exasperated sigh and surrendered.

“Keep it, if it makes you so happy,” he said and rolled his eyes.

Harry smiled.

“I believe you weren’t quite finished with your story.”

Draco sighed.

“I was trying to procrastinate but I said I’d tell you everything and so I will.”

He fell silent for a few moments and Harry gave him the time he needed to gather his thoughts.

Eventually, he continued.

“I was never afraid of fire but after that panic attack, everything changed. I was suddenly terrified of the flickering light of a candle. It took months of potions and therapy with the mind healer before I relented and let her try to help me properly. I got my NEWTs and determined to get a law degree and pass the bar, I moved out of the Manor and buried myself in my studies. It worked for a couple of years. Muggles don’t use fire quite as much as wizards and as you know my flat doesn’t have a fireplace — that’s the reason I chose to buy it. The price was outrageous but it made me feel safe.”

“How did you eventually get over it?” Harry asked.

“I didn’t, you don’t just get over pyrophobia. But the potions worked and the therapy was worth every single galleon I had to fork over. Thanks to the mind healer I somehow got to a point where candles and open fire weren’t a big deal, hence me being able to hide my fear from you so well for this long — honestly, most of the time I don’t even think about my phobia. With the mind healer’s help, I learnt to tell the difference between the normal kind of fire and cursed fire easily and since Fiendfyre isn’t an everyday occurrence, I learnt to ignore it. I haven’t had a panic attack in years, well, up until two nights ago that is.”

Harry nodded in silent understanding. He rubbed his palm over Draco’s thigh and squeezed gently.

“Will you please tell me what happened at the club?

Draco let out a huff of air.

“I went to the men’s, I did exactly what you told me to do—”

Draco paused for a moment and Harry could feel the tremor that surged through him. He continued to rub his palm up and down Draco’s thigh and with his free hand, he renewed the warming charm around them.

“Everything was a bit hazy afterwards, I was so hot and bothered and on edge, I think I went entirely the wrong way—”

Draco let out another sigh and stared up at Harry.

“When I pulled that door open all I could see was fire. The heat was intense and the smell drove me right out of my mind. Suddenly, I was back in that room, scrambling to hold on to a wobbly piece of furniture, thinking _this is it, I’m about to die_ and then you with your bloody hero complex, of course, wrenched your broom around, swept past and got me out of there, except my mind kind of got stuck at die and—”

Harry reached out and pulled Draco’s other leg into his lap. He rubbed both his hands over Draco’s thighs and Draco gave him a strange sort of half-smile, then pulled one arm out from underneath his head and held it out to Harry.

Not needing Draco to tell him what he needed, Harry took his offered hand and pressing his thumb to the pulse point on Draco’s wrist, he circled it, gently, softly.

Draco inhaled deeply, held his breath for several seconds, then exhaled. He repeated it several times, then smiled.

“What did I see?” he asked.

“A fire whip,” Harry answered. “That room you walked into, it’s a special function room, they use it for fire shows and fire play.”

Draco’s eyes widened and he trembled.

Harry continued to circle his thumb over the pulse point on his wrist and Draco gradually relaxed again.

“In terms of what it looks like, a fire whip is like an ordinary whip. It has a special kind of handle to protect you from the flames. Kevlar is the most common flammable material used to make the thong, fall, and popper. Performers or BDSM practitioners soak it in paraffin, light it up and then either use it to put on a show or whip someone.”

Draco’s eyes widened again and he inhaled sharply.

“Please tell me that this is your hard limit,” he whispered.

Harry nodded.

“It is. I like wielding a nice whip; it feels pretty good, though I doubt that you’d ever enjoy the kind of pain that causes but I draw the line at lighting a whip on fire and using it on somebody. I don’t even like fire whip shows. The smell of paraffin makes me sick.”

“Maybe you could show me sometime?” Draco asked.

Harry frowned.

“Show you what?”

“I’d like to see you hold a whip,” Draco said. “I don’t want to be at the receiving end of it, you’re right about that, but I’d like to see you use one. I don’t know why but I kind of like the idea of watching you brandish a whip.”

Draco smiled sheepishly and shuffling onto his hands and knees, Harry leant over him and kissed him.

“Kinky little prince,” he whispered. “I’ll show you sometime, promise.”

Harry settled back into a sitting position and this time it was Draco’s turn to shuffle. He moved to rest his head in Harry’s lap, bent his legs at the knees and resting his hands on his flat taut stomach, he looked up at Harry and smiled.

They fell silent and Harry combed his fingers through Draco’s hair. Draco’s eyes fluttered closed and he let out a low sigh of contentment.

“Thank you for being so honest with me, Draco.”

Draco cracked one eye open and looked up at Harry.

“Complete honesty, always, you said that once. I should have told you sooner and I’m sorry I didn’t do that but believe me, most of the time I honestly don’t even think about it. I’ve got it under control and really, I— I don’t know what happened at the club.”

“I do,” Harry said.

“You were on edge; your mind wasn’t functioning as usual and when you’re in that state you don’t react as usual. I’m not surprised that you freaked. If I had a phobia like that I probably would have freaked too. I’m sorry I didn’t anticipate that you’d be in a complete haze after edging yourself, that was my mistake. I really shouldn’t have let you leave the room on your own.”

Draco rolled his eyes.

“I’m a big boy, Potter.”

“Draco, that is entirely beside the point. When we play, you are my responsibility. It is my job to make sure that you’re safe and I didn’t do that.”

“I don’t blame you but if you want to punish yourself for it, go ahead and be my guest.”

Harry opened his mouth to say something else but Draco was a tad bit faster. He held up his hand and quite effectively silenced Harry before he’d even uttered his first syllable.

“You are human, Harry. I’m of sound mind right now so I’m going to say it again, I don’t blame you, please get that into that thick skull of yours.”

“I was terrified, I spent all night looking for you. Charlie and Caleb did too. We turned the entire club upside down and I searched for you all over London, I went nearly everywhere the two of us had been together.”

Draco smiled.

“Sometimes you’re such a freaking Gryffindork, Potter, and Merlin knows why but I love you for it.”

Harry grinned.

“Are you absolutely sure you’re of sound mind?”

“No, not since I met you and learnt about your kinks.”

“What you meant to say was since you learnt about _your_ kinks.”

“Potter, you are infuriatingly annoying.”

“Ah, but you love me, Malfoy.”

Draco smiled and lifting his head up, he grabbed Harry by the collar of his shirt and pulled him down for a heated kiss.

They broke apart a short while later and closing his eyes, Draco returned to resting his head in Harry’s lap and closed his eye. Harry resumed running his fingers through Draco’s hair and Harry hummed in approval. They fell silent and for the longest time, they sat by the lake, not talking but simply enjoying each other’s company.

Harry renewed the warming charms twice and while he let his eyes wander, he couldn’t help but think that this morning’s conversation had brought them closer together and had further strengthened the bond of trust between them. Despite the terrifying experience that had gotten them to this point, he felt closer to Draco than he’d ever been and the knowledge that they were all right and that everything would eventually be okay filled his chest with a whole lot of love and his mind with a way too many sappy thoughts.

He let his mind drift over the past year and how he’d randomly spotted Draco in that coffee shop in Notting Hill, how they’d rekindled their relationship and how quickly they’d become friends and finally lovers. He thought about their relationship and everything they’d done together, both as a normal couple and as part of their mutual love of the kinky lifestyle.

He remembered a few of their scenes, then suddenly startled and sat up straight.

“Draco?”

“Hm?”

Draco opened his eyes and looked up at him.

“What?” he asked with a frown.

Harry squeezed Draco’s hand and tried to relax.

“That time we tried sensation play. The hot and cold flames, how did those not bother you? How did you not freak out?”

Draco shrugged.

“I couldn’t see them when you were using them, could I now? You had me blindfolded if I remember correctly. I didn’t know what you were doing to me, just that it was cold and then hot and that it stung a little. It felt too bloody good to waste time on thinking about it.”

Despite feeling somewhat unnerved, Harry couldn’t help but smile a little.

“Yes, you did rather enjoy yourself.”

Draco grinned.

“Of course, I bloody did, Potter. I always enjoy myself with you. Something else for you to try and get into that thick skull of yours.”

Harry clicked his tongue disapprovingly but smiled.

“Would you have freaked if you’d seen the flames?”

Draco shrugged again.

“Perhaps, I don’t know. I saw them later and didn’t freak, did I?”

Harry frowned.

“Yes, I can’t quite understand that.”

“Neither can I. They didn’t look very scary. Sure, they were blue flames and red flames but somehow, they looked more like a ball of energy to me than actual flames. I wasn’t in the least bit terrified of them beyond a healthy dose of trepidation for the unknown.”

“You’re a strange man, Draco Malfoy.”

“So are you, Harry Potter.”

Draco chuckled.

He closed his eyes again and silence descended over them for a few minutes, then Draco opened his eyes again and broke the silence.

“You know what, Harry, I really do trust you. You make me feel safe; you really do. I feel that I can just be myself around you and that you’ll accept all of me, flaws included.”

Harry smiled.

“I am head over heels in love with you.”

“I want to hex you for being so fucking corny but I’m afraid I feel the same about you.”

Harry looked down at Draco and traced his lips with the tip of his index finger.

“Please stay with me forever,” he pleaded quietly.

Draco smiled.

“I’ll think about it.”

* * *

 


	65. Collar Me Yours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet another chapter I thoroughly enjoyed creating.
> 
> Actually, I can't say that there's a single chapter I didn't enjoy writing, it's just that some were harder to write than others. This one took some time to create but the process was beautiful all the same.
> 
> Love,  
> Selly x

* * *

Having finished perusing the kitchen and decided that they would have to go shopping later if they were to eat at home, Draco walked into Harry’s study. He found Harry bend over an open case file, idly rubbing at the back of his neck in obvious discomfort. Smiling softly to himself, Draco wandlessly cast a mild warming charm over his hands, then moved to stand behind Harry’s office chair. He cleared his throat, just to ensure that Harry wouldn’t jump a mile out of his skin — the last he wanted was to startle him — and gently placed his hands atop Harry’s shoulders, then squeezed lightly.

“Sir, may I?” he asked.

He knew he didn’t need to ask for permission to touch Harry, not like this, but he suddenly found himself wanting to.

Harry leant back in his chair, tilted his head, and looked up at him. His emerald-green eyes sparkled brightly behind his glasses and Draco felt a tiny shudder of excitement jolt down his spine.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Long day at work? Pouring over reports, no doubt, then doing more of the same at home. You deserve this, Sir.”

Harry smiled.

“Well, I’m certainly not going to object there. Work away, my sweet little prince,” he said.

Draco revelled in the feeling of warmth and love that instantly washed over him at Harry’s use of his pet name. He’d grown so attached to the name that he simply couldn’t imagine Harry ever calling him anything else. He didn’t want to be anything else. He was Harry’s little prince and he was comfortable with that.

While they’d most definitely enjoyed a great deal of kinky sex and Harry had found plenty of opportunities to use his pet name, since his panic attack they hadn’t indulged in any heavy play. Yes, there’d been a bit of light spanking and a little bit of submission but conscious of his mental health, Harry hadn’t taken things any further and Draco was grateful for it. Over the course of the last month, he’d most definitely found himself wanting more but he’d also been worried that he might struggle to come back down after an intense scene. He needed a little bit more time.

Harry had repeatedly told him to take as long as he needed and had even suggested that he go and see his old mind healer.

_For a bit of peace of mind and a professional opinion_ , he’d said and the memory of hearing those words still made Draco smile.

He’d been rather reluctant to make an appointment to see his mind healer but Harry had insisted. He hadn’t been a pest about it either, just made it obvious that he cared a great deal. His primary motivation had been his love and concern and Draco simply couldn’t find a fault in that. Although, if he was honest, the real reason he couldn’t find a fault with that was because Harry had given him the lost puppy dog look and on top of that he’d bribed him with a box of exquisite Belgian chocolate and a lot of sweet kisses.

Really, there was only so much resistance Draco was willing to put up and he most definitely drew the line at sweets, and perhaps also kisses. Still, sweets were his weak spot, his Achilles’ heel, and Harry had exploited it beautifully, not that Draco minded. He was sure that he’d changed his mind somewhere around the time Harry had told him that he could eat the chocolates straight off his body — that had most definitely been an incentive Draco hadn’t been able to resist.

In the end, and just like Harry had predicted, talking to his old mind healer had done him the world of good.

After all, his treacherous mind had successfully managed to trick him into confusing an ordinary Muggle fire whip with cursed fire and previous experience had taught him that nothing good came out of pushing these things to the back of his mind — he simply had to grasp the dragon by its talons and deal with things, no matter how uncomfortable these things were.

Even though he and Harry had spoken extensively about the incident, talking to a professional whom he trusted and who knew absolutely everything about his phobia had most definitely allowed him to process everything and put it all behind him.

Aware that he was drifting, Draco pushed his thoughts aside, and pulling himself back to the present, he focused on the task at hand — massaging Harry’s shoulders and easing the tension right out those knotted muscles. He started with some very simple sweeping, stroking movements with the palms of his hands, sliding them over Harry’s upper back and out over his shoulders.

In response to that, Harry sat forward a little and casually resting his forearms on top of his desk, he flexed his fingers and let out an audible breath that almost sounded like a relieved sigh.

Draco smiled and moved on. He held his hand as if he was picking up a glass of water and grasping the top of Harry’s shoulders between his thumb and index finger while using his other three fingers for support. He started to pluck the tops of Harry’s shoulders from near his neck right to his deltoids and gently and repeatedly pulled the muscles up and away, doing so without pinching it to cause Harry discomfort or pain.

“This feels really good, my love,” Harry praised affectionately.

At hearing Harry’s approval Draco felt his face flush, though not because he was embarrassed but because the praise did funny things to him.

He pressed his lips together and closing his eyes, he shamelessly let the sensations wash over him. He’d always enjoyed hearing that he’d done well — _who didn’t?_ — but only Harry managed to properly make him melt.

He couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was but Harry’s praise set his entire body on fire.

It made his heart beat faster and his skin flush.

It made him shudder and squirm in the best possible way.

It excited him and turned him on.

It filled him with the intense desire to please Harry.

It made him want to do what Harry told him to do.

Harry’s praise had become a highly addictive drug; one he couldn’t help but want more of.

He still didn’t quite understand it but he was certain that something that felt so good and so right simply couldn’t be wrong.

“Hm, I think we should most definitely negotiate an amendment to our contract. Giving me shoulder rubs should absolutely become one of your regular duties, my little prince.”

Harry’s next words twisted his mind that little bit further and his backstabbing brain signalled his heart to pump a large amount of blood into his groin. His cock twitched with definite interest and his black chinos suddenly felt entirely too tight and quite uncomfortable.

Draco shuffled from one foot to the other and mutely cursed both his brain and his cock for betraying him like that — for the love of Salazar Slytherin they were only words, Harry wasn’t even touching him! It was him who was doing all the touching; Harry should be the one who was melting.

Yet here Harry was, casually proposing an amendment to their agreement — the first one ever. They’d only just renewed their temporary contract for another three months but hadn’t made any actual changes to it. After a lengthy discussion they’d both decided that they were happy to leave things as they were and after a bit of beating around the bush, Draco had eventually confessed that he wasn’t quite ready to take things further.

Still, the idea of a change, even a small one like adding to his regular duties, the thought of personalising their agreement and therefore deviating from the standard they’d originally agreed on, filled Draco with excitement. However, a tiny part of him wanted to tell Harry that adding such a clause to their D/s agreement was entirely unnecessary — he’d gladly give Harry as many shoulder rubs as he wanted, several times a day even. If massages pleased Harry, then he wanted to give those to Harry and he didn’t need a contract telling him to do so.

Inexplicably, his mouth appeared to be unable to successfully coordinate with his brain and while Draco knew exactly what he wanted to say, the only sound that made it past his lips was a low approving hum.

Sometimes Harry’s ability to render him entirely incoherent with a few words or a hard look, truly drove Draco right out of his mind — until he remembered that it was all him. He was allowing Harry to have that power over him and the knowledge of that resulted in his annoyance dissipating in an instant. It had taken him a while to fully accept that fact but after a few conversations with Stefan and some of Harry’s friends from the club, as well as a bit of reading, he was happy to admit his preference not only to himself but also to Harry. Then again, Harry knew, there really wasn’t that much need for him to admit to anything.

Draco adjusted the position of his hands ever so slightly and loosely resting his fingers on the tops of Harry’s shoulders, he placed his thumbs on either side of Harry’s spine, then pressing firmly, he began to make even circular movements, slowly working his way up and out.

Harry sighed contently and Draco boldly increased the pressure a little more. He found a few bumps in the muscle and pressing and holding over the stubborn knots, he tried to loosen them. With the more persistent ones, he rotated his thumbs into opposite directions around them while applying a good amount of pressure.

Draco released knot after knot and Harry hummed softly, then let out a low and appreciative moan. The sound went straight to Draco’s cock and it hardened further, insistently pressing against the zipper of his trousers. He felt the strong desire to squeeze his cock, rub his palm up and down against the throbbing flesh to appease it a little, but he refused to give in — he rather liked the intense feeling of arousal that kept surging through his veins with every single beat of his heart.

It slowly but surely edged him closer towards that point when sheer need took over and begging Harry for his release felt anything but embarrassing — it just felt right. In those moments, when his excitement and the thrill of being at Harry’s mercy created a pleasant hazy fog in his brain and his thoughts were sluggish, pleading with Harry simply was the right thing to do.

Knowing that his present musings were his own worst enemy and that they did absolutely nothing to calm his overexcited libido, Draco resolutely focused on working his way to the edges of Harry’s shoulder blades. There his touch became gentler and he began to massage Harry’s neck, playing close attention to the bands of muscle just either side of the centre.

Harry continued to hum in approval and every now and then another little moan escaped past his lips. Draco moved to support Harry’s forehead with one palm and placed his thumb and index finger around the back of Harry’s neck. He very gently pulled towards the back and carefully lifted the tired muscles he found there. Harry’s moan turned into a low groan and Draco couldn’t help but wonder whether it was possible for him to come untouched — his cock certainly felt like it was about to explode.

He shifted uncomfortably, found the region at the back of Harry’s head where the base of his skull met his spine and continuing to use only his index finger and his thumb, he worked along the ridge, drawing tiny circles.

“Sweet mother of Merlin, you are going to turn me into putty!” Harry exclaimed.

Draco chuckled softly and returned to plucking Harry’s shoulders, then moved on to drawing a couple more circles on his back and finished his massage with some sweeping, stroking movements with the palms of his hands, though this time he didn’t just run his hands over Harry’s back and his shoulders but also firmly down his arms and off the elbows.

When he finished, his palms tingled pleasantly.

Harry turned his comfortable leather office chair around, leant back and as his eyes swept over him, Draco felt his cheeks burn.

Somehow, Harry’s scrutinising eyes gaze made him feel completely naked, exposed. It was like Harry could read his thoughts and knew what he felt.

The fact that Harry could see his erection filled Draco with an undue awareness of his own body and he suddenly felt tense and edgy — more so than mere moments ago. He flexed his fingers at his sides and felt the urge to push his hands into his pockets but somehow managed to resist doing so.

Harry silently regarded him for another minute or so, then hooked his fingers into his trousers and moving to the edge of his seat, he spread his legs apart and pulled Draco in-between them.

Draco came willingly and without the slightest hesitation. It was just a single step but resistance was absolutely the very last thing on his mind.

“Sit,” Harry instructed and Draco sat on Harry’s thigh.

“That’s my good boy.”

Draco closed his eyes at the praise and fought hard against allowing the whimper that rose from the depths of his throat to escape past his lips. For now, he managed but he was very much aware that he was fighting a losing battle. In the end, Harry was going to win, he always did.

“Look at me.”

Draco hesitated for a moment or two, then opened his eyes and looked straight at Harry. He pressed his lips tightly together, intending to show some form of restraint, no matter how minor it was.

Harry ran a single finger down the centre of his button-up shirt, over his belt buckle and the outline of his hard cock which pulsed underneath the light touch. Draco bit his tongue hard and felt his eyes flutter. He wanted to close them again but stopped himself from giving in to that urge when Harry clicked his tongue.

Instead, he swallowed hard and when Harry gently tapped his thigh twice, he spread his legs. The moan, he’d tried so hard to hold inside, finally slipped past his lips when Harry scratched his fingernail over the inside of his thigh.

“I’m quite curious, how is it that giving me a massage turns you on this much, my little prince? Care to enlighten me?” Harry asked.

Draco flushed crimson and pulling his bottom lip into his mouth, he bit down on it. He wanted to look away but somehow, he couldn’t convince himself to break eye contact with Harry.

“I—” he started but trailed off.

Harry squeezed his knee.

“It’s just the two of us. Tell me,” he said.

Draco tried clearing his throat and fidgeted with his hands, then reluctantly released his bottom lip, and took a deep breath.

“You told me you liked it, and you made all these appreciative little noises.”

Harry smiled.

“I did like it. Very much. It was very good of you to do that, my little prince. Thank you.”

This time Draco didn’t manage to keep his eyes open, the fell closed out of their own accord and he keened. He felt Harry’s thumb caress his cheek and automatically pushed into the touch.

“My sweet little prince.”

“Sir…”

“Kneel.”

One word was all it took for an intense jolt of energy to zap down his spine and Draco shuddered. He effortlessly slid off Harry’s thigh and kneeled on the floor, right there between Harry’s wide-spread legs, then sat back on his haunches and even though Harry hadn’t told him to do so, he moved his hands behind his back.

It took him a great deal of effort but somehow, Draco managed to open his eyes and keeping his head slightly lowered he found himself staring directly at Harry’s crotch. Harry’s trousers were tight enough for Draco to note that he was hard, too. Draco licked his lips and wondered whether Harry expected him to take care of his erection but abandoned that thought when Harry ran his fingers through his hair and rested his hand at the nape of his neck.

“Look at you being such a good and obedient boy. I’m proud.”

Harry’s sweet praise instantly turned Draco’s world upside down.

The haze in his mind thickened.

He felt dizzy with it.

It was overwhelming.

Harry was pleased with him. He was happy.

The knowledge of that made Draco’s heart speed up. It thumped in his chest, beating so wildly that Draco couldn’t help but wonder whether it might break through his ribcage.

Harry’s hand moved from the nape of his neck to below his chin and he pushed his head up, forcing him to meet his eye. The warm smile and the gentle, loving look in his eyes sent a shudder of excitement down Draco’s spine.

“I’ve got a little something for you, my little prince,” Harry said.

The butterflies in Draco’s stomach did summersaults and his mind whirled.

A reward?

He very much wanted that.

Harry let go of his chin, reached for something on his desk and a moment later, he produced a shiny silver envelope.

Draco frowned.

“Take it, have a look, it’s for both of us,” Harry said with a nod.

Draco moved his arms from behind his back and took the envelope from Harry. The broken black wax seal at the front told Draco that he was wasn’t the first person to peruse the contents of the envelope. He reached inside and slowly pulled out a simple but beautiful ivory-coloured invitation card.

At the top centre of the card was a hand-drawn, symmetrical triskelion emblem and in the middle two very familiar names:

> **_  
> Caleb & Stefan_ **

  
The handle of a whip, also drawn by hand, underlined the _C_ of Caleb’s name, while the whip’s thong curled around Stefan’s name, encircling it completely. A beautiful silver lock hung from the lower part of the letter _f_ in the middle of Stefan’s name. At the bottom centre of the card it read:

> **_  
> Collar Me Yours_ **

  
Draco looked up at Harry and frowned again.

“What is it?”

Harry smiled.

“Open it up and you’ll know.”

A sassy response flew to the tip of Draco’s tongue but he decided that it wasn’t worth his trouble to go there and swallowed it back down.

He silently unfolded the card and read the message on the left side of the invitation card:  
  


> **_Sir Caleb Reid and His devoted pet Stefan Vallee request the honour of your presence at their Collaring Ceremony_ ** **.**

  
The right side of the invitation card gave information about the date, time, and place as well as dress code and by which date to RSVP.

Draco stared at the card for a moment or two, then looked back up at Harry and shook his head.

“What’s a collaring ceremony?” he asked.

Harry smiled.

“Hm, the simplest explanation I can give you is that it’s a wedding, BDSM style.”

Draco’s eyes widened.

“Caleb’s popped the question?”

“Yes and no. They aren’t getting married, not in the traditional sense anyway. They aren’t signing on the dotted line in front of a registrar but they have decided to make their relationship official, the kinky part of it anyway. Surely you noticed that those two are head over heels in love with each other?”

Draco smiled.

“I might have picked up on the way Stefan looks at Caleb.”

Harry grinned.

“Much like you look at me sometimes.”

Draco glowered darkly.

“Like you haven’t looked at me like a smitten kitten before, Potter,” he said with a rather dramatic eyeroll, suddenly unable to resist being just a little fresh with Harry.

Harry’s eyes instantly twinkled with a sense of wicked deviousness.

“Is my little prince looking for a spanking? Because I’d be more than happy to oblige you if that’s the case.”

“A little bit of leeway, please, we’re talking about something important here.”

“Hm, yes, we are. Shall I use my bare hand or the spatula you love so much?”

“Potter, focus, _please_!” Draco exclaimed with mild exasperation.

Even though he was on his knees on the floor in-between Harry’s legs, Draco was suddenly very much in the mood to give Harry a bit of sass. A nagging voice in the back of his head reminded him that he most likely wouldn’t get away with it but he tried his luck anyway. Caleb and Stefan’s invitation had cleared away the haze in his brain and he was feeling a lot more alert than some ten minutes ago.

Harry laughed.

It was a warm and bubbly sort of laugh and Draco rather liked the sound of it.

“I’m very focused, just not on the one thing _you_ want me to focus on,” Harry said, then abruptly leant forward.

Draco felt him firmly grip his chin and swallowed hard. He squirmed but Harry merely tightened his hold, making it obvious that he wasn’t going to let go any time soon.

Those green eyes looked positively menacing and Draco couldn’t help but shudder.

“I’ll go easy on you this time but _do not_ , not even for one moment, think you can get cheeky with me while I have you on your knees at my feet, my little prince. Because I will not hesitate to turn your arse a lovely shade of red and you know that I can make it good for you or I can make it hurt.”

Feeling like Harry had poured a bucket of ice water over him, Draco shivered and gnawed at his bottom lip. He really didn’t like it when Harry talked like that. He sounded scary and terrifying and while the idea of a spanking usually appealed, Draco absolutely believed that he wouldn’t enjoy it as a punishment.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” he whispered.

Harry held his gaze for another minute or so, then let go of his chin. The moment he did, Draco lowered his head and looked down at the floor.

Punishments still scared him but somehow the actual act didn’t scare him as much as hearing Harry reprimand him. There was something about his voice that Draco did not know how to resist, or maybe he just couldn’t summon the will to try.

The fact was, he wanted this.

He had chosen submission — Harry hadn’t made him, not once.

Surrendering control was entirely his decision.

Draco enjoyed the submission. Sometimes, letting go and not being in charge was just what he needed.

And if he was honest, he even enjoyed the thrill of a possible punishment — he just didn’t enjoy it enough to actively try and be bratty and while he knew that Harry wasn’t really annoyed and would never punish him in anger, he was still extremely convincing.

“That’s much better.”

Harry’s voice sounded considerably softer but Draco didn’t dare look up at him, not yet and not until he had permission to do so.

“I do like it when you’re being good for me, my little prince, but if you want to continue being sassy best get it all out now so I can decide exactly how many times I’ll spank you for your insolence.”

Draco swallowed hard and mutely shook his head. He shuffled a tiny bit closer and resting his cheek on Harry’s knee he looked up at Harry with pleading eyes.

“I’ll be good, Sir,” he whispered.

His face felt hot and he knew that he was blushing. This time, he was embarrassed. Whenever Harry told him off, he always ended up feeling like a little boy and it was a strange feeling. It wasn’t entirely unwelcome but he was still trying to learn how to deal with all those feelings.

Harry gently combed his fingers through his hair and smiled down at him.

“I know you will, my sweet boy.”

Draco’s eyelids fluttered closed and his cheeks heated even further. Harry caressed his cheeks.

“So pretty, I do fancy a blushing pretty boy like you. Hm, yes, you tick all my boxes.”

Unable to stop himself from reacting to those words, Draco whimpered and he fervently hoped that Harry wouldn’t stop touching him. He needed to feel Harry’s hands on him; his touch anchored him. His mind grew foggy and the thick haze returned. His thoughts became sluggish and he allowed himself to simply revel in the way Harry kept running his fingers through his hair, gently massaging his scalp.

Shudder after pleasant shudder surged down his spine and pooled low in his groin. He was still hard but asking for his release was the last thing on Draco’s mind. All he wanted was to enjoy Harry’s touch, the closeness, the familiarity. He wanted to bask in his submission. He wasn’t in charge. Harry was. Harry would take care of everything. Harry knew what he needed. He’d give to him and he’d keep him safe.

“You like this, don’t you, my sweet little prince?”

Draco didn’t even think twice about his answer.

“Yes, Sir.”

Harry’s low and warm chuckle reverberated around the room and his ears tingled pleasantly. A tremor rolled through his body and he curled his toes.

Draco drifted.

He didn’t think, there wasn’t anything to think about. The familiar warmth of Harry’s body seeped through his trousers and into his cheek and he lost himself in the sensations of Harry’s fingers still running through his hair. It was such a simple gesture yet in this very moment it meant everything to Draco.

Eventually, though he wasn’t sure how much time had passed, his mind settled a little and feeling a bit more aware of his surroundings, Draco slowly opened his eyes and looked up at Harry who smiled.

“I believe we were talking about a collaring ceremony,” he said.

Draco nodded slowly but didn’t move to lift his head off Harry’s leg. He blinked once and tried to remember the date of the ceremony but found that he hadn’t retained that information.

“When is it?”

“Next month.”

“Are you going to be best man?”

Harry chuckled.

“A collaring ceremony isn’t quite that formal, although it depends on each individual couple. However, since I introduced them to each other, Caleb did ask me if I would like to officiate.”

“Did you say yes?”

Harry grinned.

“I made him buy me three pints first.”

Draco couldn’t help but chuckle a little.

“You are my kind of man, Sir.”

“Such sweet words,” Harry said. “Come up here, my love.”

Draco slowly got up and when his knees protested a little, Harry helped. He sat on his lap and snuggling against Harry, Draco buried his face against Harry’s neck and hummed softly. Harry wrapped his arms around him and held him close.

“I was going to kiss you, but this works too,” Harry said.

Draco abruptly pulled away and looked straight at Harry.

“I would very much like a kiss, please,” he said somewhat sheepishly.

“How could I deny such a polite request?”

Harry smiled, cupped his cheek, and pulled him closer. Draco let his eyes fall closed and let Harry kiss him. It was a slow and lazy kiss and it was perfect. The butterflies in his stomach flipped and fluttered and his heart skipped an excited beat here and there. Harry’s hand travelled down his arm, then up again and eventually down the centre of his chest. He gently stroked it over Draco’s thigh and squeezed his hip at the same time. Draco moaned into the kiss. He couldn’t help but wonder whether a kiss was all he would get or whether Harry intended to take things further…

* * *

* * *

Harry gripped the shopping trolley’s handle tightly and tried his hardest to force himself to stop ogling Draco’s arse quite so blatantly in the middle of the supermarket’s vegetable aisle but wasn’t entirely successful in his endeavour, or rather not at all. He blamed the fact that Draco was holding three zucchinis for his inability to not think about shoving something thick, long, and hard up Draco’s hole and slowly fucking him with it until he’d—

“For Salazar’s sake, Potter, we’re in public, could you pull yourself together for like five minutes?”

Draco glared at him with accusing eyes.

Harry let a sly smile creep onto his face and did so openly and without guilt or the slightest bit of shame.

“I could. I just don’t want to.”

Draco expressed his exasperation with a dramatic eyeroll.

“Insatiable git, you had a go this afternoon.”

“That was before I decided that seeing you hold a zucchini is my new kink,” Harry said with a very suggestive look.

“I’m telling you now, _hard limit_ , absolutely and unequivocally so. You are not allowed to shove phallus-shaped foodstuff up my arse,” Draco said. “It. Is. Not. Ever. Going. To. Happen. Potter.”

With those words, he put the three zucchinis into the trolley and crossed his arms over his chest with bold disobedience and an extremely smug grin.

“Meh, you’re no fun,” Harry said.

He pretended to pout but instead of leaning in to give him a kiss, Draco spun around on his heel and with his chin raised up high, he stalked off to get some red and yellow bell peppers. Harry turned the trolley around and followed him with a preoccupied mind; half of it was enjoying their moment of domestic bliss, buying food for dinner while bickering like an old married couple, and the other half was indulging in the completely inappropriate fantasy — for a supermarket at least — of putting Draco over his knee and spanking him until he lost some of that unbelievable sass. He wasn’t seriously planning to go through with it but the idea still appealed, it always did.

“For all that sass and all those filthy thoughts, I’m not putting any meat into tonight’s dish. It’s vegetables only, Potter.”

Harry chuckled and his eyes twinkled with mirth.

“That’s alright with me, I’ll just munch on your piece of meat instead of having dessert.”

Draco choked on a groan and shook his head in sheer disbelief.

“The cheek of you, Potter,” he said.

He picked one large yellow bell pepper and one large red bell pepper and then announced that he was off to find some quinoa.

“The cheek of me indeed,” Harry mumbled under his breath, smirked and instead of following Draco, he decided to be productive and picked up a few other items from their shopping list.

He’d just chosen a box of ten free range eggs when Draco found him again. He dropped a few bits and pieces to their trolley, then rested one hand on the handle, right next to Harry’s.

Harry smiled.

“I've got a question…”

“Go ahead,” Harry nodded.

“Caleb and Stefan, their ceremony. Are we supposed to bring gifts?”

“Friends usually do.”

“Can I ask— I mean— What are you going to get them?”

Harry’s eyes lit up with pure wickedness and he gave Draco a sly lopsided smirk. He reached out and deliberately oblivious to the fact that they presently stood in the middle of his local supermarket, he took Draco’s hand and laced their fingers together, then pulled Draco closer to him, much closer than strictly necessary or appropriate.

“A kinky gift basket,” he said quietly. “Just because I want to see Caleb’s face when Stefan unwraps it.”

“Let me get this straight, they’re planning something that’s basically a wedding and you’re going to buy them a bunch of sex toys?”

“You could say that.”

Draco chuckled roguishly.

“You’re bad, Potter, wickedly so.”

“I think we established _that_ quite some time ago. Want to come shopping with me tomorrow?”

Draco raised an eyebrow at him.

“Shopping for sex toys?”

Harry nodded.

“I’ll take you to my favourite place. It’s in Covent Garden.”

“Are you going to buy me lunch first?”

“You’re a very demanding little prince, do you know that?”

“ _Sir_ , you wouldn’t want me any other way.”

Harry growled.

“Don’t make me apparate us out of here.”

Draco laughed.

“I’d like to hear you explain this to the Obliviators, Director Potter.”

“I’ve no problem telling them the truth. You’re hot and I want to ravish you, preferably so many times that you forget the difference between up and down and left and right.”

Harry positively delighted in the way Draco’s cheeks pinked. He looked a little uneasy and his eyes darted nervously around the supermarket as though to make sure they nobody was close enough to have overheard them. Harry thought it endearing and pressing his thumb against the pulse point of Draco’s wrist, he rubbed over it gently.

“Nobody heard any of that, but I promise I’ll behave until we get back to Grimmauld Place.”

“Are you sure you’ll manage that?”

“Hm, yes, quite sure,” Harry said with a smile. “Come on, let’s get the last few bits and pieces and then head back. I’m starting to get hungry.”

“I could say something now, but I’ll restrain myself.”

“Aw, no, leave that up to me. I get such joy out of restraining you, my sweet little prince,” Harry said.

When Draco pulled away from him, crossed his arms over his chest and looked at him with a smug grin, he realised that he’d walked right into his trap.

“I thought you said you’d manage to behave…” Draco said, only barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes at him.

“Hm, yes, apparently not. I blame you; you have corrupted me.”

“Innocent until proven guilty, Potter,” Draco smiled, then abruptly changed the subject. “I want to get some chocolate if you don’t mind.”

“You don’t need to ask me for permission to buy chocolate, Draco.”

Draco’s cheeks pinked and he worried his bottom lip — his typical reaction when he was mildly embarrassed about something kinky. Harry unfolded his crossed arms and taking one of his hands, he gently rubbed over the pulse point on his wrist. He gave Draco an encouraging smile, then lowered his voice to an almost inaudible whisper, making sure that his words were for Draco’s ears only.

“What do you want, my little prince?”

Draco hesitated for a long moment, clearly torn between whether to ask for what it was he wanted or resist the temptation altogether. Harry didn’t push. He waited patiently and it paid off — at this stage he knew Draco well enough to be able to tell that sometimes Draco simply needed a little bit of time to sort through his thoughts.

Of course, there were times when he needed a little nudge in the right direction but now wasn’t one of those times. Draco clearly hadn’t thought his request though, it had most likely been a spontaneous idea and something he’d obviously never asked for before, hence his reluctance to come right out with it. Then again, the fact that they were in the middle of a supermarket probably also contributed to Draco’s sudden bout of shyness which was downright cute and made Harry’s heart skip an excited beat.

“I— Harry— Will you— Please, will you choose the chocolate, Sir?”

Harry smiled.

“Is that what you want, my love?”

Draco gnawed at his bottom lip and nodded.

“If it’s what you want, then it’s what I’ll do,” Harry said. “Come on, let’s go find you some chocolate.”

They made their way over to the sweets’ aisle and once there, Harry quite deliberately took an obscene amount of time looking at the wide range of chocolate bars that were on offer. He knew exactly which chocolate Draco preferred and which he disliked and for that very reason, he made a point of carefully inspecting all the chocolates Draco disliked.

He purposefully stayed away from the chocolate Draco liked and rather enjoyed watching him squirm in silence — and possibly regretting the fact that he had willingly given up his right to choose his own chocolate. Then again, Draco knew exactly what to say if he wanted to put a stop to their little game and for as long as he didn’t use his safeword, Harry had no intention of making this easy for Draco.

After about fifteen minutes of playfully provoking Draco, he finally picked up a chocolate bar, he knew Draco liked. Taking it off the shelf, he held Draco’s gaze for a few moments, then lowered his voice and gave it a sultry undertone. He glanced at the chocolate bar in his hand and started to read out the cocoa content as well as other various bits and pieces of information he found on the label.

Draco looked positively put out and Harry couldn’t help but wonder exactly how much longer it would take before Draco lost his resolve to resist the urge to threaten to curse him.

Miraculously, Draco showed an extraordinary amount of self-restraint and after a couple more minutes of light-hearted teasing, Harry finally put him out of his misery.

He chose Draco’s favourite brand and while placing the bar in the trolley, Harry leant in and kissed him on the cheek. He lingered for slightly longer than strictly necessary.

“You did really well, my little prince, I’m very proud of you. None of that was easy, I know that much. You just earnt yourself a big reward.”

Harry pulled away and smiled.

Draco preened at his praise and taking Draco’s hand, Harry grabbed the trolley with the other and although stirring it with one hand proofed to be a little difficult, they managed to make their way over to the checkouts. After a short while of queuing, during which Draco kept squeezing Harry’s hand, as if you check that he was, in fact, real, they paid and packed their purchases up.

They each carried a large linen bag and once they’d left the supermarket, Harry reclaimed Draco’s hand, laced their fingers together and casually swayed it back and forth as they strolled down the road towards Grimmauld Place. They walked in comfortable silence, exchanging the occasional glance or smile along the way and Harry thoroughly enjoyed the familiarity between them.

_This_ , them walking, hand in hand, down the street really wasn’t anything special but because it was so utterly normal, it felt so incredibly special.

They got back to the house about twenty minutes later and the moment the door fell closed behind them, Harry possessively pushed Draco up against the nearest wall and kissed him passionately.

Draco, clearly a little surprised by the sudden attack but not put off by it, flailed his free arm, steadied himself against the wall, then wound it around Harry’s shoulders to keep him as close as possible.

In response, Harry sneaked his free hand around Draco’s waist and squeezed tightly, drawing his hips away from the wall and against his own body.

He pulled away from the kiss, blinked, then stared right into Draco’s eyes. Out of their own accord, his lips slowly curved upwards.

“You’re mine, my little prince. I love you,” he whispered.

Draco’s cheeks pinked a little, though Harry was sure it was from excitement rather than shyness or embarrassment. Seeing the bright beam of happiness appear on Draco’s face was enough to make Harry’s heart beat faster.

“I’m yours,” Draco mouthed, then paused for a second. “I love you too, Harry.”

Harry stole another kiss but after several more minutes of ardent snogging in the hallway, Draco managed to convince him to give him a chance to get started on dinner — he very effectively threatened that if Harry didn’t agree to postpone kissing him senseless until after dinner, he would go hungry.

While tempted to scold Draco for his insolent cheek, the threat of going hungry was enough of an incentive for Harry to raise his free hand in mock-surrender. He handed his shopping bag over to Draco and announced that he was heading upstairs to have a shower.

He was half-way up the stairs when Draco called after him. With one hand resting on the wooden railing, Harry turned around and crooked a questioning eyebrow at him.

“No funny business in the shower, Mr Potter, Sir,” Draco said with a sly grin.

Harry grinned.

“I wasn’t aware you had any say in when and where _I_ wank, my little prince,” he said. “I, however, absolutely do have a say in when and where _you_ wank, so if you don’t want to go without an orgasm tonight, you better not give me ideas.”

Draco rolled his eyes.

“Potter, you’ve got a dirty, dirty mind. I say no funny business and you automatically assume I mean getting off.”

Harry chuckled.

“Oh. I beg your pardon, how very presumptuous of me. Was that not what you meant then, _Malfoy_?”

“That’s for your little prince to know and Sir to guess,” Draco replied with a shrug.

Harry regarded him for a moment or two, then laughed.

“Somebody’s really looking for that spanking,” he said and not giving Draco the chance to respond to that statement, he turned around and resumed climbing the stairs.

* * *

* * *

About forty-five minutes later, Harry, feeling quite refreshed after a long hot shower now and dressed in a clean set of clothes, made his way back downstairs.

Unsurprisingly, he found Draco in the kitchen, preparing their dinner. He’d pulled out several pots and pans, a few plates, a large wooden cutting board and several other utensils he might need — that was Draco, he liked to have everything ready in advance. He wasn’t the type of person to go looking for things when he needed them; he planned. Harry suspected it was a prosecutor’s habit that had somehow carried over into everyday life and it gave him a bit of a pause and yet another reason to cherish Draco’s surrender.

Whenever Draco gave up control, he gave up the right to plan, to be prepared for what was going to happen. Surrendering that much of yourself wasn’t easy, Harry knew that much, and it made him cherish Draco’s gift even more.

Harry surveyed Draco’s workstation and smiled softly to himself. Somewhere between getting ready to cook and unpacking their shopping, Draco had opened a bottle of red wine and poured himself a glass, although judging by the amount of wine still left in the bottle and in the glass, he hadn’t had more than a few small sips. He’d also opened the bar of chocolate and snacked on a few pieces of his favourite sweet treat and was presently humming quietly.

Harry remained in the doorway and tried to identify the song but gave up a few moments later.

Instead, he walked into the kitchen and sneaking his arms around Draco’s waist, he kissed Draco’s neck, then rested his chin on Draco’s shoulder.

“Hello gorgeous,” he purred.

Draco shivered in his arms and his reaction to a simple hug, kiss, and compliment made Harry smile. He kissed the top of Draco’s shoulder, then reached for the glass of red wine and brought it up to his lips to take a small sip. Afterwards, he glanced at the label on the bottle — a Merlot from Saint Émilion in the Bordeaux region of France. Harry suspected it was a high-priced, high-class wine but since he had only a limited knowledge of wines, he wasn’t entirely sure. He did, however, know Draco and anything he drank, even casually, was most definitely a fine wine, carefully chosen based on the information on the label and Draco’s personal preference.

“I didn’t know chocolate and wine could be paired together,” Harry remarked, setting the glass back down next to the bottle.

“They are very complementary.”

“How so?” Harry asked, expressing genuine curiosity.

“You picked dark chocolate for me. It’s deep and rich in flavour and needs a similarly deep and rich wine. A Merlot is just perfect, this one has sweet undertones of mocha and red juicy cherry and raspberry. It’s generous with a silky, velvety rich finish; perfect with dark chocolate really. It’s a bit like eating and drinking your dessert at the same time. Have a try?”

Harry couldn’t quite resist that explanation. He didn’t have much of a sweet tooth unless it came to treacle tart, then he lost all shame but he just couldn’t resist Draco’s passionate explanation and so he reached for a piece of chocolate.

“Leave it to melt in your mouth,” Draco said.

Harry popped the chocolate square into his mouth and slowly letting it melt on his tongue, he pressed a kiss to Draco’s neck.

“I’d much rather drizzle it all over you, then lick it off. I imagine the chocolate would taste heavily mixed with your come, my little prince,” he whispered.

Draco keened softly at the image and Harry briefly fought with his resolve to cancel dinner, grab the chocolate and the wine and take Draco upstairs to his bedroom to have his wicked away with him — nothing too serious and definitely no restraints or any sort of heavy play, not with alcohol involved. Just a bit of a sweet treat, plenty of kisses and several few sips of rich velvety red wine shared between them both. The kink level was practically vanilla but the fantasy was intensely erotic and most definitely hot enough to pique his cock’s interest.

In favour of completing the experiment, however, Harry reluctantly pushed his dirty thoughts to the back of his mind and momentarily closing his eyes, he focused on the slightly bitter roasted nutty tones of the chocolate with a distinct aftertaste of earthy sweetness and fruity freshness. Once the sweet treat had completely melted, he reached for the wine and took a small sip. He swirled it around his mouth, then swallowed, carefully set the glass down, and hummed contently.

“And?” Draco asked, expectantly.

“I approve,” Harry said with a low deep chuckle.

He could feel the shiver that surged through Draco and hugging him a little tighter, Harry kissed him and nibbled on his neck.

“You have impeccable taste, my little prince,” he praised.

Draco mewled and pushed into his embrace. He tilted his head sideways to give Harry better access and Harry flicked the tip of his tongue against Draco’s earlobe, then sucked the soft flesh into his mouth and gently bit down on it.

“ _Ngh_ , Harry!”

Draco protested a little but made no attempt to extract himself from Harry’s embrace or stop him from what he was doing.

Harry bit a little harder and Draco whimpered.

“If— Harry— If you keep— Dinner isn’t going to cook itself, you know?”

Harry stopped assaulting Draco’s earlobe, pressed a kiss to his neck and chuckled into the warm skin.

“You’re a wizard, Draco, there’s a spell for that.”

“You really are insatiable, aren’t you?”

“Hm, yes, with you I absolutely am. You are delectable, my little prince.”

“Sweet Salazar!”

Draco’s exclamation only made Harry chuckle harder and he nipped at Draco’s neck, half-biting, half-kissing the sensitive skin.

“Please, Harry, let me make dinner,” Draco pleaded.

Harry paused, let the words wash over him and smiled to himself.

“I can’t resist you begging,” he said.

He pressed one last kiss to Draco’s neck, then pulled away and moving to stand next to Draco, he casually leant back against the kitchen counter. Draco’s cheeks glowed with colour; the soft pink hue complimented his naturally pale complexion perfectly. His pupils were slightly dilated and when he looked at him, the tip of his tongue darted out of his mouth and he licked his lips.

It took Harry every ounce of self-control not to pounce on Draco right there and then and he resolutely shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

A few minutes of charged silence, during which Draco sliced the zucchini, past between them and when he had finished, Draco turned his head and regarded him curiously for a moment or two.

“Are you just going to stand there and watch me cook?”

Harry smirked.

“Do you want me to help?”

Draco frowned and shook his head.

“No, not especially. You don’t respond well to being told what you’re supposed to do.”

“Unlike you,” Harry chuckled.

He pulled one hand out of his jeans pocket and placed it on top of Draco’s squeezing it gently.

“I like watching you, no matter what you do.”

Draco rolled his eyes.

“Voyeur.”

“I’m not going to deny that.”

Another few minutes of silence past but instead of simply watching Draco, Harry made himself a cup of coffee and as he carefully sipped on the hot reinvigorating beverage, he spontaneously decided that domestic bliss with Draco was his new, and quite possibly favourite kink. There was just something intensely stimulating about watching Draco potter about the kitchen, doing this and that, as he worked hard to put together a meal for them both to enjoy later.

A short while after having rinsed off the quinoa, drained it of its excess water, and transferred it into a medium pot filled with two cups of water and a tiny bit of salt, Draco paused and turned to him. He silently looked at him for a very long moment and holding his gaze over the rim of his favourite coffee mug, Harry took a few sips of coffee, then lowered the mug and smiled encouragingly as he boldly hazarded a guess about Draco’s intentions — he had something on his mind, that much was for sure.

Not inclined to push Draco to start talking, Harry relaxed his body stance and waited patiently. As usual, it paid off and after another few moments of dithering, Draco took a deep breath.

“Why do you never punish me?”

The out-of-the-blue question floored Harry a little but he had enough self-control not to let it show. Instead, he smiled and put his half-finished coffee down on the kitchen worktop.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“You always reprimand me when I get sassy with you and you threaten with a spanking but you don’t actually go through with it. It’s just that, a teasing threat.”

Harry smiled. Draco had a point. He often chastised him for his cheek and his sassy remarks but he hardly ever dished out a proper punishment for those minor transgressions.

“I happen to like your sass. Call me lax but I find bickering with you rather refreshing. Besides, if I spanked you every time you got a bit fresh with me, the palms of my hands would be perpetually sore and the same could be said about your pretty arse.”

Draco rolled his eyes.

“You could use a crop or something, you’ve got a whole lot of toys up in the playroom,” he said.

Harry arched a curious eyebrow at him.

“Do you want to be punished more, Draco? If I’m being too lenient and you need a firmer hand, do tell me. If you have needs that require addressing, we’ll do just that. I can promise you, I'm more than happy to invest a bit of time turning your precious behind a glorious shade of Gryffindor red.”

Draco flushed and momentarily averted his gaze. He took a deep breath, then turned back to look at Harry.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he said quietly, his voice lower and softer than before.

“Then what did you mean? Draco, you’ve got to remember, I can read most of your body language and I can occasionally read between the lines, in certain situations anyway but I am not in your head, I don’t know what you’re thinking, so you’ll have to tell me.”

Draco sighed. He shuffled from one foot to the other and wrung his hands together, then pulled them apart and took a deep breath.

“You never punish me,” he whispered.

This time refused to meet Harry’s gaze but stared into the general direction of the kitchen sink instead.

“Are you sure I _never_ punish you, my little prince?” Harry asked.

He hoped his use of Draco’s pet name would help him relax and he was right. Draco stopped fidgeting and stood perfectly still. Harry held out his hand with his palm turned upward and waited for Draco to place his own hand on top. The moment he did, Harry curled his fingers around Draco’s hand and squeezed gently. His thumb easily slipped to Draco’s wrist and finding his pulse point, he caressed it, then pulled Draco a little closer.

“I will punish you when you deserve it, my little prince, and if you remember I have punished you before but I just don’t think a little bit of sass warrants a spanking, at least not always. I do enjoy it when you’re being your adorably obnoxious—”

Draco opened his mouth to protest but Harry shook his head. He then glanced at the pot of quinoa on the stove.

“How long does that need before it’s done?”

“About fifteen to twenty minutes,” Draco mumbled.

Harry smiled.

“Perfect. That should leave us with more than enough time for what I have in mind. Follow me, my little prince.”

Harry kept hold of Draco’s hand and leaving the kitchen, he led Draco into the centre of the living room. There he turned to face Draco. He looked at Draco, pulled him close for a kiss, then let go of his hand and took a step back.

“Kneel.”

His instruction was soft, his voice gentle and that was all it took. Draco responded beautifully. He sank to his knees with the beauty and grace of an angel and sitting back on his haunches, he moved his hands behind his back and lowered his head submissively.

Harry ran his fingers through Draco’s soft loose strands of hair, then placed two fingers underneath Draco’s chin and pushed it up; a wordless prompt to get Draco to look at him. Draco complied with the slightest hesitation and the look of adoration that shone in his silvery-grey eyes filled Harry’s heart with love and an endless amount of respect for Draco’s explicit trust in him.

“Just look at you, my beautiful sweet little prince,” he whispered.

He crouched down in front of Draco, combed his fingers through Draco’s hair, then cupped his cheek with his hand and ever so gently caressed it with his thumb.

“You don’t need to be punished, sweetheart, just look at how wonderfully you obey me. Why would I ever want to punish you if you did nothing to deserve it, my love? That would be just cruel and I’m not that. You want to be good for me and you always are, I just can’t begrudge you your sass. It’s who you are and I don’t want that to change. You’re perfect just the way you are, my sweet little prince.”

Harry fell silent. He watched Draco’s eyes fill with tears, watched him blink as he struggled to hold them back, then watched him squeeze his eyes closed and shake his head in a very unsuccessful attempt not to cry.

“It’s just me, my love, you can let go in front of me,” Harry whispered encouragingly.

He slid into a sitting position on the floor, pulled Draco into his arms and held him tight.

Draco curled into his embrace and his body shuddered as a tiny sob escaped him.

Harry ran the palm of his hand soothingly up and down Draco’s back and gave him a moment to deal with the overwhelming emotions that had brought on his sudden desire to cry.

“I’ve got you, sweet one, I love you and I’m here. You’re safe with me, always.”

A second sob gained its freedom, this one louder than before and hot tears spilt over the rim of Draco’s closed eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

He buried his face in Harry’s lap and Harry stroked through his hair and continued to rub his back.

“What for?” Harry asked. “We all feel overwhelmed sometimes, let it out, you’ll feel better. Don’t you ever think that showing me how you really feel is embarrassing because it isn’t. I want all of you, just the way you are. Sassy, cheeky, submissive, bratty, sweet, smart. I’ll take all of it, no exceptions.”

“Merlin, stop, you’ll turn me into a proper mess,” Draco mumbled, his voice muffled by the fact that he was speaking into Harry’s thigh.

Harry chuckled.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve turned you into a proper mess, Draco Malfoy, and it won’t be the last time, I can promise you that much.”

Draco lifted his head, blinked and Harry summoned a box of tissues from the coffee table. He used one to gently dry Draco’s tears, then pulled him into a kiss and when he broke away a few moments later, Draco smiled softly but still looked a little embarrassed. Harry caressed his cheek and ruffled Draco’s hair, which earnt him a hard glare.

“Let’s finish dinner first. We’ll eat, watch a movie and then you can have a shower and I’ll think of something special for you tonight. I may even include some spanking. What do you think, does that sound good to you?”

Draco nodded and promptly flushed crimson.

Harry chuckled.

“I swear, you are utterly adorable, Draco Malfoy.”

Draco growled.

“Will you spank me if I hex you?”

Harry laughed heartily.

“Try it and you’ll find out.”

* * *

 


	66. Covent Garden (With A Kinky Twist)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh the memories. This chapter didn't only require an intense amount of research, before I started writing, it also came with its very own kinky game of _yes_ nor _no_.
> 
> More about that in the end notes so as to not spoil the chapter.
> 
> Love,  
> Selly x
> 
> P.S. The shop really does exist but it's got a different name and I've no idea whether it's really as large as I made it out to be. They do have absolutely gorgeous BDSM toys that I'm absolutely in love with.
> 
> P.P.S. I’ve a lot of unanswered comments and I promise I will get to them in the very near future but I have a crazy schedule ahead of me. I’ll be flying back to Europe in a couple of days and there’s loads to prepare.

Saturday began with a lazy lie-in, followed by a very relaxed two-hour brunch in Draco’s favourite café near his flat. It included an indecent amount of blueberry buttermilk pancakes, small frittatas with asparagus, tomato and goat cheese, vegetable strata, bacon, eggs, hash browns, crispy toast, yoghurt, fresh fruits, and an obscene amount of black coffee — at least on Harry’s part, Draco had stuck to drinking cappuccino.

With their bellies pleasantly full, Harry now found himself strolling down Monmouth Street in Covent Garden with Draco walking right beside him. They weren’t holding hands but there was so little space between them that the backs of their hands frequently brushed against each other and each time they did a little jolt of excitement shot up Harry’s arm. The thrill of not knowing when exactly their hands would brush together again was, in a way, almost better than continuously holding hands.

They’d nearly reached their destination and were about to walk into _Pleasure_ , the only place Harry ever went to when he wanted something new for his playroom. Unless, of course, he wanted something with magical properties. In those cases, he usually turned to Charlie, who either taught him the necessary incantations or provided him with reading material to acquire the knowledge he needed.

Stopping a few metres away from the door, Harry had decided to give Draco a moment to take in the outside of the shop with its two large shopping windows. They displayed a luxurious range of handmade designer men’s and women’s underwear. Each of the four female mannequins and two male mannequins either wore or held kinky props — there was an elaborate mask suitable for a masquerade ball, a satin blindfold, luxury nipple clamps that looked more like jewellery than a sex toy, a flogger made from wild leather, stunningly beautiful silver shackles with little locks, and a black leather garter with black lace around it — a subtle invitation that the shop sold much more than just sexy underwear for women and comfortable boxer briefs for men.

The owner had recently painted the outside of the shop an inviting shade of shiny dark purple which sparkled in the early spring sun and Harry reached out to take Draco’s hand. As he did so, Draco turned to face him. He smiled softly and Harry pulled him closer.

He sneaked one arm around Draco’s waist, briefly pulled him flush against his body and kissed him. It was only a gentle kiss, nothing that screamed inappropriate public display of affection but Harry filled it with a silent promise — there was more to come. Draco’s eyes darkened several shades and he licked his lips in anticipation.

Harry smirked.

It was just too easy to pique Draco’s interests. All it took was the right sort of look at the right time — or even the wrong time. A subtle little touch, a sly smile, a word or two…

“How about a little game?” Harry asked.

A roguish sort of grin crept onto Draco’s face.

“What kind of game did you have in mind, Sir?”

Harry only barely managed to suppress a growl and the intense desire to possess Draco washed over him — because somewhere along the way Draco had worked out exactly how to push his buttons. Draco knew perfectly well how he felt when he, without the slightest warning or hint, called him _Sir_. Harry tightened his hold on Draco and held his gaze for several moments, then smiled.

“I would like to let you choose the items for the kinky gift basket.”

Draco raised an eyebrow at him.

“But?” he asked.

Harry chuckled.

“Aren’t you a smart one, my little prince?”

Draco shrugged.

“I know you got your job casting _Expelliarmus_ at the Dark Lord but the requirements for my job are a little bit higher. You need to have read more than the Hogwarts curriculum and a couple of picture books on BDSM.”

Harry made no effort to hide his amusement over Draco’s sass.

He’d spent most of last night with Draco kneeling at his feet, obeying his every command, but after a lengthy play session, he was most definitely ready for more of Draco’s unique brand of cheek and his delightfully sarcastic humour.

“I’m starting to think this game will be perfect for you, my love. It’ll hopefully teach you a lesson.”

Draco chuckled.

“A lesson about sex toys,” he said.

Harry winked.

“Perhaps. Now, if you’re up for the task, I’d like you to pick the toys for the gift basket we’re going to give Caleb and Stefan next month. The rules are simple enough. You can choose whatever you want and put it in the basket, _however_ , you must ask me for permission first. A nod means you can put it in the basket but if I shake my head you must put it back, no discussion, no arguments.”

Draco instantly stopped chuckling and his eyes widened.

He gulped, blinked, and Harry felt the slight tremor that surged through him.

“You mean I have to ask permission for every single item?”

Harry nodded.

“That’s exactly what I mean, my sweet little prince. Of course, there may be an item or two you’d like to put into the basket even though I said no. If you’re willing to accept getting disciplined for disobeying my rules you can defy me, however, in return you will join me in the playroom later this afternoon where you will strip for me. Then you’ll bend over and take five strikes with the riding crop…five strikes for each item you put into the basket despite me telling you _no_.”

This time, Harry didn’t just feel Draco’s shudder, he also saw it. Something that was a mixture of intense excitement and a healthy dose of fear flickered in Draco’s eyes and Harry watched him swallow hard. That moment of insecurity, where he weighed up the pros and cons of the little game, Harry had proposed, was beautiful to watch.

Harry was sure that he knew what Draco’s decision would be but he had no intention of being openly presumptuous. Instead, he smirked and pressed Draco for an answer.

“What do you say, my little prince? Do you want to play?”

 _Pleasure_ was a luxury sex shop with a wide array of toys, props, clothing, and various other delightful surprises even Harry had a hard time resisting — though, admittedly, he never tried especially hard to resist. He didn’t have many vices but spending money at _Pleasure_ was most definitely one. Harry, therefore, had absolutely no doubt that Draco would find an item or two he would want to put into the basket and that would be the exact moment where he would strike.

It would be all too easy to patiently wait until Draco found an item, he really wanted to add to the gift basket, and then forbid the purchase simply because Draco had willingly given him the power to do so. Harry was completely confident that Draco would reach a point where he would feel bratty enough to disobey him just to find out if he’d really end up getting five strikes with the riding crop on his bare arse.

Harry pushed once more.

“Well?”

Draco hesitated for several seconds, then his lips slowly curved upward and into a wicked grin while his eyes gleamed with a kind of child-like zeal.

The _kid-about-to-enter-a-sweets-shop_ metaphor instantly came to mind and Harry had a hard time holding back his laughter.

“The game is on, Potter, the game is on,” Draco said.

“A good challenge is all it takes to get you interested, isn’t it?”

“Guilty as charged, Director Potter.”

“Hm, delectable. I should arrest you right now.”

“Save the shackles for later, Auror Potter, Sir, I’ll surrender willingly.”

“I’ll never say no to a bit of roleplay.”

Harry smiled and before Draco could say anything else, he kissed him then ushered him towards the doors to _Pleasure_ and inside the shop.

The solid oak parquet flooring creaked a little beneath their feet. The rustic-grade grain and the light honey tint brought warmth and a welcoming atmosphere to the large floorspace while the random and natural appearance of knots and the colour variations gave it an authentic wood feeling.

The walls near the front of the shop were a dark shade of brown that complimented the heavy wooden furniture perfectly while the walls towards the rear of the shop were a luxurious velvety cherry red and floor-length curtains of the same colour separated the floor from the changing rooms.

While the ground floor of the shop offered a large variety of toys, clothing, various other props, some bondage gear and a wide selection of sex jewellery, the kink level was moderate, or at least Harry thought it was moderate.

At the back of the shop, a circular black iron staircase led upstairs to the first floor which exhibited a large variety of underwear garments and stylish costumes for various types of roleplay, with a whole section devoted to leather wear.

The kink level on the second floor was decidedly higher with a wide range of all sorts of impact toys, ropes and bondage gear that ranged from leather cuffs to metal shackles, and a large assortment of collars, both for play and everyday-wear. Naturally, custom-made collars and chokers were also available and while pricy the luxurious design and artwork were most definitely worth the exorbitant price tags.

The third floor offered an exclusive assemblage of sex furniture, including very BDSM-specific furniture. Harry owned several of the pieces of furniture available for purchase although most of his furniture, if not all of it, had been customised according to his personal preferences.

The modern display cabinets that lined the walls and the round tables dotted around the centre of the room were dark and heavy and even though the pleasure objects on display were just that, samples, clear glass prevented shoppers from directly touching most of the products.

The shop was quiet and soft classic piano tunes drifted through the room and over to them, providing a relaxed ambience.

A member of staff, impeccably dressed in black linen trousers and a black button-up shirt, came up to them and Harry greeted the young brunette woman with a smile and a handshake.

“Kat, it’s been a while,” he said.

“Just came back from two months travelling in South East Asia,” she said, explaining her absence. “Anything I can help you with, Harry?”

Harry shook his head.

“Nah, we’re fine. We’re shopping for a naughty gift basket for two friends. My partner is picking the toys today, I’m just here for moral support and—”

“And to fork over the cash,” Kat laughed.

Harry chuckled. Kat knew him well enough to know that he’d end up handing her an exorbitant amount of money.

“That too,” he said.

While he hadn’t given anything about their little arrangement away, Harry could practically feel Draco’s icy death glare but quite nonchalantly ignored its existence.

“Will you be needing any help?” Kat asked.

Harry shook his head.

“I think we’re good.”

“OK, well, you know your way around so knock yourself out and if you need anything just give me a shout. I’ll be behind the till,” she said and handed him a catalogue and a pen so that they could clearly mark the items they intended to purchase and a key.

Each toy, piece of jewellery, and garment had a unique code that you could easily track down inside the booklet and tick. It was, perhaps, a little bit time-consuming but it ensured that shoppers went home with a previously untouched, individually wrapped toy. You could, of course, ask to examine the toys on display prior to deciding but since _Pleasure_ always kept the glass vitrines locked you had to ask a member of staff for assistance.

Some shoppers, Harry knew from experience, found that process unnecessarily elaborate and embarrassing, however, he failed to see what was so mortifying about asking for advice about a sex toy. The staff at _Pleasure_ was extremely well-educated and Harry was of the firm opinion that someone who didn’t know how to handle a toy should be asking for advice instead of making the purchase on a whim and ending up disappointed when said toy failed to live up to the shopper’s expectations.

“Will do,” Harry said with a smile and when Kat left them alone, he turned to face Draco, whose expression had softened a little.

“Ready to have a bit of fun, my little prince?” he asked quietly.

Draco let his eyes roam around the shop and Harry gave him another few moments to take everything in.

Eventually, Draco turned back to face him and looked at him with a rather coy smile.

“I assume you’ll mark everything in the book?” he asked.

Harry smiled, then shook his head.

“No, my little prince, you will,” he said and with those words, he handed the booklet over.

Draco accepted it with a wary expression on his face, then casually leafed through it.

“Why me?” he asked with a sardonic undertone to his voice.

“No reason,” Harry said but was entirely unable to stop himself from sounding maliciously playful.

He had no intention of explaining to Draco that the reason he’d put him in charge of the booklet meant he had every opportunity to cheat and add whatever he wanted to the gift basket they were going to put together for Caleb and Stefan. Harry would, of course, still know whether Draco had cheated or not — he had that much confidence in his ability to retain information. There was also the fact that Draco was as Slytherin as you could get — he was most definitely able to work things out for himself.

“Likely story,” Draco said, rolling his eyes. “Potter, if you think you’re going to have the pleasure of spanking me with that riding crop later today, you best not get your hopes up. I’ve no plans to cheat.”

Harry smiled.

“We shall see, my little prince, we shall see,” he said and changed the topic by showing Draco the key that unlocked the glass vitrines and display cabinets.

“If you’d like to look at something more closely, let me know. They trust me a lot here, so I usually get a key.”

“And yet more confirmation that your level of kinkiness knows no boundaries.”

Harry chuckled.

“Perhaps,” he said with a wolfish grin.

He motioned with his hand, a silent invitation for Draco to begin his stroll around the shop and Draco complied.

For the longest time, he simply wandered around the shop floor, stopping here and there to look at the various samples on display. Harry followed him quietly, never more than two steps behind him but never crowding him. He didn’t urge Draco to make a choice. Instead, he watched his reactions to the abundant arrangement of pleasure objects. Some piqued his interest and he stayed for a while, simply looking, others made him shudder, turn on his heel and walk off into a different direction altogether. A few sex toys captured his attention although he looked at them with a sense of apprehension and several made him turn his head to look at Harry. His somewhat coy, and sometimes questioning, gaze always lingered for a few moments, then drifted around the shop before his eyes slowly settled on something new.

Harry found himself smiling at random intervals although his happiness was entirely unrelated to whatever Draco was looking at — he was far more enthralled by the opportunity to watch Draco and to learn more about him and how he behaved. Granted, Harry made the one or other mental note about the toys Draco showed an interest in and those he outright avoided but mostly he took pleasure in Draco’s poise.

He never appeared entirely unsettled or completely calm. There was always a constant sort of balance, one that was graceful and elegant. He moved with light steps, hardly ever causing the floorboards beneath him to creak and whenever they did make a sound, Draco would stop, shift a little, then continue walking. It was almost like watching him dance, or so Harry thought and he couldn’t quite get enough of the sight. It made his heart flutter lightly and ache a little with the intensity of his feelings for Draco.

By the time, Draco did point at the first item, Harry was in a little bubble of his own, entirely focused on the way Draco moved and how his shoulders shifted and his hips elegantly swayed from side to side whenever he took a step forward. It took Draco clearing his throat and giving him a menacing glare for him to snap out of acting like a kitten that had sniffed too much catnip.

“Show me again,” he said.

Draco pursed his lips, glowered for a moment then relaxed his features and pointed at a simple but stylish black silken blindfold, quite like the one Harry had previously used on him during their playtime.

Harry regarded the item for a moment, deliberately dithered for a few seconds, then fixed his eyes on Draco and shook his head.

“No,” he said.

Draco nodded in silent acknowledgement and walked on.

A minute later, he stopped in front of a long line of hooks that displayed a large selection of bondage ropes with colours ranging from natural beige tones to mysteriously elegant black.

“You like these,” Draco pointed out.

Harry smiled and nodded.

“I do, however, my answer is no.”

A mild frown very briefly appeared on Draco’s face but it was gone a moment later and with a nonchalant shrug, he continued walking until he’d reached a table with a black satin cloth and an assortment of various bottles and tubes of lube.

“Always handy,” he said with a dirty smirk.

Harry chuckled.

“Indeed. I think shall say yes. You may choose three bottles.”

Draco inclined his head, then perused the display, picking up several bottles to inspect them more closely. Several minutes later, he’d clearly made his decision and leafing through the book, he made three small ticks, then walked off to another table.

It offered a selection of punishment and pleasure dice in various colours and for straight, gay, and lesbian couples. Some came with a small booklet of helpful suggestions, others showed different sex positions and a deluxe set even came with an automated timer that would randomly set a time once you hit the button and you had to perform whatever action you’d rolled until the time was up — naturally, of course, without ending the game by giving your partner an orgasm.

Harry had several dice sets in his playroom, varying from tame to spicy although as far as sex toys went, he considered punishment and pleasure dice to be rather plain. Then again, he had used them with Draco some time at the beginning of their relationship, when he’d still been in two minds about telling Draco about the true extent of his preferences, and he distinctly remembered that they’d both rather enjoyed that night.

Draco waved his hand casually over the display and crooked a questioning eyebrow at him and Harry smiled. He held Draco’s gaze for a full minute, then slowly nodded.

“Yes,” he said.

“Any preferences about the colour?”

Harry shook his head.

“Choose a set you think Caleb and Stefan might like. And while you’re at it, you might want to include a bottle or two of red wine. Knowing Caleb, the last time he used these he was like sixteen or something.”

Draco grinned and after a few moments of consideration, he leafed through the catalogue and ticked off the relevant item, then turned to face Harry.

“I remember, Pansy brought a set with her in fifth year.”

Harry couldn’t quite stop the roguish smirk that spread across his face.

“Did Parkinson make you play with her?”

Draco rolled his eyes.

“No, she forced a whole bunch of us to play together. Turned into a bit of an orgy towards the end. There was a whole lot of snogging going on sometime around midnight.”

“You Slytherin lot are a kinky bunch, aren’t you?”

“Fifth year, Potter! Seriously, would it be possible for you to occasionally get your mind out of the gutter? I said snogging, didn’t I?”

Harry laughed.

“Who did you snog then?”

“Blaise stands out, he knew what to do with his tongue. Most of the others just made me gag. I left when Pansy got so drunk that she kept draping herself all over me acting like a complete slut.”

“Aw, my poor little prince. Should have invited me, I would have most definitely enjoyed you draping yourself all over me like a complete slut.”

Harry smiled and stepping closer, he brought his hand up to cup Draco’s check and caressing it softly with his thumb, he gave him a soft kiss, then whispered a confession against Draco’s lips.

“I’m jealous.”

Draco huffed out a warm breath of air followed by some low laughter.

“It was more than ten years ago, Harry.”

“What can I say, I get possessive about my little prince.”

Harry felt the mild tremor that surged through Draco and pulling away from him, he tilted his head slightly to the side. For a moment, Draco held his gaze, then he placed his hand right above Harry’s heart and pressed his palm lightly against Harry’s chest.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this in the middle of a bloody sex shop, but you know I’m yours… _Sir_.”

Harry let out a low growl.

“You’ll be the death of me, Malfoy,” he hissed.

“Can I make a request?”

“What request?”

“Don’t go before me. Either after or together but not before,” Draco whispered, then flushed a light shade of pink at his corny confession.

Harry’s heart stopped for a moment then did a fierce doubletake and he had to consciously remind himself to breathe.

“Merlin, Draco Malfoy, I fucking love you.”

Draco smirked.

“Eloquent as ever, Potter,” he said, then wordlessly turned around and walked across the shop to a selection of adult erotic films.

He let his eyes sweep over the selection and by the time, he reached out to take one of the DVDs off the shelf, Harry had caught up with him and looking over his shoulder, he glanced at the cover and promptly, and with a complete lack of shame, burst out laughing.

Draco turned slightly and looked at him over his shoulder, raising a questioning eyebrow.

“Are you quite sane?”

Harry chortled.

“’fraid not,” he mumbled.

Another wave of laughter washed over him.

“Yes, yes, yes. I bloody well want to see Reid’s face when he sees a bunch of hot and sweaty firefighters get it on.”

Draco grinned.

“That’s why I picked it. I’m sure he’ll kill you.”

Harry nodded.

“Probably,” he said.

Finally managing to get himself under control, he sneaked his arms around Draco’s waist and hugged him from behind, then pressed his lips to Draco’s ear.

“You’ll save me, won’t you, my little prince?” he murmured.

Draco always shuddered when he used his low and seductive drawl and this time was no exception. Harry properly delighted in the knowledge that he had that sort of effect on Draco.

“You don’t need saving, Sir,” he said, then leafed through the shop’s booklet to find the page with the relevant adult films and after a quick scan, he ticked the correct one.

“Perhaps not, but I like the idea of my little prince swooping in on a Thestral.”

“Your imagination is entirely too over-imaginative,” Draco said.

He extracted himself from Harry’s embrace and letting his eyes wander around the shop, he dithered for a moment, then walked off into the direction of insertable toys.

Protected by glass and well-illuminated was a mammoth selection of anal plugs, anal beads, dildos, and vibrators of all shapes, sizes, and colours. Draco scrutinised them carefully for a few minutes, then turned to face Harry, who hastily bit the inside of his mouth to kill the smirk on his face.

Draco momentarily frowned at him, then straightened himself up a little and lazily pointed at a deluxe set of anal plugs in various shapes and sizes that allowed for the attachment of a fake tail for pet play — alternatively one could simply hook a finger into the silicone hook and comfortably twist and turn the plug to adjust the position, tease or stimulate.

“Those,” he said.

Harry glanced at the set and smiled a little. It was a fine set, made from silicone, and it came in various colours and a remote control to wirelessly turn on vibrations and switch back and forth between sixteen different levels — which Harry found a bit excessive, though admittedly, all those different levels did have their uses. The set also came with a butt plug harness that allowed for outdoor wear which positively added to the fun one could have with the toy set. Sorely tempted to incline his head, then insist that Draco mark the purchase of two sets in the little booklet, Harry had to take a moment before he was able to school his expression into one of cool and calm nonchalance.

He then turned away from the vitrine and shook his head.

“No.”

Draco briefly looked piqued, then shrugged and pointed at a nearby set of anal beads instead. It was another deluxe set with seven different beads and each one represented a colour of the rainbow flag. Made of high-quality silicone, they were easy to clean and sterilise and some even had a filling, a small steel ball or several small steel pearls that moved around inside the bead and provided an extra level of pleasure. Each of the seven beads had a different length with the shortest only having six beads while the longest had twelve.

Harry had to admit that Draco most definitely had taste when it came to choosing gifts and once again found himself sorely tempted to say yes but remained resolute.

“No.”

“Well, now you’re just making a mistake.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at Draco.

“Am I?”

“Yes,” Draco nodded. “These would make a lovely gift, for so many reasons.”

Harry smiled.

“If you disagree you can always go against my word.”

Draco glowered darkly.

“No, thank you. Caleb’s _your_ friend.”

“Is he now?”

“Hm, yes. I’m not going to let you spank me just so that he can give Stefan a mind-blowing orgasm with a lovely set of anal beads. If these were for me, I might be so bold.”

Harry chuckled lightly.

“Shall we amend the rules then? Apart from choosing something for the gift basket, you may also choose for yourself if you see something you like. However, do keep in mind that I still have the last word.”

“And I’m still not going to disobey,” Draco said with a grin, then walked backwards to the vitrine with a substantial display of dildos and vibrators.

 _We shall see, my little prince, we shall see_ , Harry thought and followed Draco.

This time Draco did not point at a set of dildos but rather one single toy and as Harry looked at it, he couldn’t help but wonder who was playing whom here. The dildo in question was seven-inch long and made from soft liquid silicone that was vividly-shaped with veining and glans. It was pliable, much like real skin, odourless, phthalate-free, and therefore most definitely skin-friendly.

The toy came with a strong suction cup base that allowed for hands-free play and since it was also waterproof, Harry couldn’t help but indulge in a little fantasy of bringing the dildo into the bath with him and getting Draco to impale himself on it. He could visualise it perfectly; Draco fucking himself on the toy, holding on to the edges of the tub lest he slipped, while Harry toyed with and teased his cock, then slipped a finger or perhaps even two into Draco’s tight hole right alongside the dildo.

Harry’s cock twitched with interest but as he turned around and faced Draco, he made sure to hide his excitement over his little fantasy behind his best poker face, then stunned Draco by asking a question, rather than making a choice.

“For you or for the gift basket?”

Draco’s surprise was precious and Harry thoroughly enjoyed having rendered him speechless. His silence was, however, fleeting and he soon recovered but didn’t fully regain his composure. Harry was rather pleased with that.

“I—”

Draco started but faltered and then briefly glanced at the dildo.

“I’d have so much fun watching you use it to play with yourself,” Harry teased.

He reached out, took Draco’s hand, and circled his thumb over the back of it.

“What will it be, my little prince, this one for the gift basket or for you?”

Draco swallowed hard and a small shudder surged through him although he tried to disguise it by hastily shuffling from one foot to the other and straightening up.

“The gift basket,” he breathed.

Harry smiled.

“In that case, my answer is no,” he said.

Draco at once pulled his hand out of his loose grasp, gave him an accusing glare, and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Are you going to say no to a vibrator as well?”

Harry held his gaze for several moments, then nodded.

“Yes.”

Draco frowned and mild confusion flittered across his face.

“Harry—”

“Yes, my little prince?”

“Caleb and Stefan are as good as getting married, you said so yourself. You’re being a cruel bastard.”

“And you’re rude enough for me to consider ten strikes with my bare hand when we get home later,” Harry said and took a step towards Draco, who looked at him with a hint of trepidation flickering in his eyes.

“Cruel bastard, eh?” Harry asked, deliberately lowering his voice, and giving it a dangerous edge.

Draco made a move to take half a step back, then seemingly reconsidered and remained put but pursed his lips defiantly, as if to say _I’m-not-going-to-apologise-because-you-know-you’re-being-cruel_.

Harry couldn’t help but smirk.

“My bold little prince, let’s continue before I decide that we’ll need to stop by the changing rooms for a much-needed intervention.”

Draco turned his head and his gaze lingered on the velvety cherry red floor-length curtains at the back of the shop that led to the changing rooms. A moment later, he uncrossed his arms — a silent capitulation — and gracefully headed off towards a display of edible underwear and rather kinky sweets — kinky only because of their shape. Harry once again smirked to himself. What with Draco’s sweet tooth, this was the perfect opportunity to tease him.

 _Pleasure_ had quite the assortment of edible naughty stuff and Harry suddenly couldn’t fathom why he’d never thought of introducing Draco to a bit of kinky food play. He sidled up to Draco and watched him take in the opulent display with kinky sweet foodstuffs.

There were cock rings made from candy, flavoured oral sex sweets, edible underwear for both men and women, some made of sweets, others made of gummy, and an utterly indecent amount of penis-shaped sweets and lollipops in a variety of colours and flavours — it felt a bit like standing in front of a display of sweets in a naughty section of Honeydukes. Then there was the edible body paint, flavoured teeth covers for oral sex, and pens that allowed to you write on your partner using chocolate, as well as a worryingly large range of throat numbing spray for those that struggled to deep throat while giving head — something Draco had absolutely no need for.

As far as toys went, the sweets were rather vanilla but Harry conceded that they were indeed good fun. One couldn’t always indulge in heavy play, sometimes something light-hearted and sweet was just perfect.

“This would be a lot of fun, which means you’re absolutely going to say no,” Draco said.

He turned his head a little and looked at Harry, then sighed.

Harry sneaked his arm around Draco, briefly squeezed his hips, then gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek, and lingering just a little longer than strictly necessary, he spoke directly into Draco’s ear — for the sole reason that whenever Draco felt the warm air of his breath ghost over the shell of his ear it made him shiver with a kind of excitement one just couldn’t fake or suppress.

“The answer is _yes_ , so pick whatever you want, my sweet little prince. I also want you to pick something you’d like to play with, so surprise me. When you’re done, I’ll be over there by the cock rings.”

Draco gave him a strange sort of look and cleared his throat but instead of saying anything, he nodded, then turned his attention towards the display of edible underwear, naughty foodstuffs, and kinky sweets.

A quarter of an hour passed, during which Harry devoted little to no attention to any of the cock rings on display. He had more than enough of those in his playroom and had no desire whatsoever to make a purchase. What he, however, did enjoy was quietly watching Draco from across the room. His natural poise and the wicked sort of professionalism with which he poured over the display was quite addictive. It made him look strangely out of place, yet enticing.

Another five minutes passed, then Draco turned on his heel and walked across the shop’s floor with a satisfied grin and a slight spring in his step.

Harry was at once excited and when Draco was within earshot, he couldn’t help but tease him a little.

“I do so hope that you picked that big rainbow-coloured cock-shaped lollipop. I would love to have your on your knees and watch you go to town on it while I have your hands bound behind your back and a vibrating butt plug up your tight hole, one that’ll massage your prostate quite nicely,” he said.

Draco flushed bright red and averted his eyes.

“Hm, a few dirty words and you get all coy with me. Delectable, just delectable.”

“Rotten tease,” Draco mumbled under his breath.

Harry pretended not to have heard him.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing,” Draco said with a smile.

“Ah, I thought so, otherwise we’d really have to take that trip to the changing rooms right about now, I can feel my hand itch.”

Draco wordlessly approached the display of cock rings and after looking at them for a while, he pointed at a stylish black leather band that snuggly fitted around the base of a cock with two additional straps that one could fasten around the balls and tighten as per one’s personal preference — or the preference of one’s Dom. The leather band came with a small O-ring and a chain leash one could attach or detach at one’s own leisure or keep in place with a small lock. There was also an additional stainless-steel cock ring that fitted just below the head of a cock with a small steel pearl that pressed against the underside of the head, providing additional pleasure of epic proportions.

“That one.”

Harry looked at the cock ring for a full minute, then at Draco for another minute and tried to gauge how he felt about the toy.

“Do you want it?” he eventually asked.

“You’re undoubtedly having some rather dirty fantasy about me wearing it.”

Harry smirked.

“We’re in a sex shop, my little prince. Virtually everything here is a dirty fantasy waiting to come true. Now answer my question.”

Draco blushed a little and as he glanced at the cock ring, Harry took a step closer.

“A collar for your cock,” he whispered.

Draco shuddered, visibly affected by Harry’s words.

“Of course, you’d like that. Why fasten one around your neck when I can fasten it around your precious cock, or maybe even connect both collars, and then make you follow me everywhere, hm, my little prince, you have a delightfully kinky heart.”

Draco coughed and his cheeks pinked a little. Harry knew exactly what he was thinking about.

“The gift basket,” he breathed out.

Harry touched his arm and Draco shuddered again, then turned his head slightly to look at him with dark smouldering eyes full of desire. His lips were slightly parted and he slid the tip of his tongue over them to wet them.

“Then the answer is no,” Harry said.

He dropped his hand, placed it low on Draco’s hip and squeezed.

Draco let out a little gasp.

“You’re—”

“A cruel bastard, I know. Be bold, sweet one, break the rules, you know you want to.”

“I don’t,” Draco mumbled.

His answer lacked conviction and sounded more like he was saying the exact opposite.

Harry chuckled.

“I don’t believe you, my love. You’re a Slytherin at heart, there’s no way you’ll resist the temptation.”

“Is that a challenge, Potter?”

“What if it was? You’d still give in. I know you, my sweet little prince.”

“Don’t be so sure of that, I have a lot of willpower.”

“Hm, sure you do. Just not where I’m concerned. That’s where your willpower goes right out of the window. You know I want you to be bad, there’s no way you’ll resist that lure, you’re halfway there already.”

“You’re very sure of yourself.”

“I am but I can also read you very well.”

“Can’t I just give you permission to spank me either way?”

Harry chuckled.

“I already have that. You signed on the dotted line, remember?”

“How could I forget? Which means you don’t need me to be bad.”

“Oh, my sweet little prince, but it’s so much more fun when I get to do it because you’ve been bold.”

“Fine, I’ll change my answer. I want the collar cock ring with the chain leash. I want you to put it on me.”

“Really? Do you?” Harry asked, pretending to look entirely unconvinced.

“Yes.”

“Hm, the answer is still no.”

“Devious fu—”

“Careful now, if you finish that sentence, I’ll instantly add twenty strikes. There are only so many insults a man can take before his ego is irreparably bruised.”

Draco rolled his eyes at him but did not finish his sentence and changed the topic altogether. It made Harry smile.

“So, since the cock ring is off limits, how about a cock cage?”

Harry gave a deliberately obtuse response to that question.

“Marvellous idea, my little prince! I’d love to put one on you, lock you up good and proper and make sure you only get hard for me and only get off when I want you to get off.”

Draco glared.

“You already do that and I meant for the gift basket.”

“Hm, yes, but only because you’re being good about it, wearing a cage won’t give you a choice.”

“Would you just answer my question, please?”

“What question?”

“Gift basket, yes or no?”

“Sure.”

“Oh, wow, Potter, you really are evil. You said no to all sorts of pleasure devices but immediately say yes to a toy designed to bring endless torture to the wearer.”

Harry chuckled.

“My sweet little prince, I can promise you that a cock cage is not a torture device. It just teaches you to save your erections and your orgasms for when it matters and for the one person you deem worthy giving that control and pleasure to. When you can’t get off whenever you want to, you’ll end up more focused and when you do get to have an erection and after that an orgasm, it’s so much more exciting. The sensations are so much stronger.”

Draco looked rather doubtful.

“I think I’ll p—”

Harry cut in before Draco could finish the sentence.

“We’ll give it a try one of these days, just for an hour or two, then, after you’ve experienced what it feels like you can properly make up your mind.”

Draco slowly raised his hands in mock-surrender.

“Since I’m not going to win this argument, I’m going to temporarily rest my case, formally request a recess and go to look at the nipple clamps instead.”

Harry laughed.

“I do love it when you use all that legal jargon, then unexpectedly throw in a bit of naughtiness at the end.”

“You have some seriously weird kinks.”

“Guilty as charged.”

Draco rolled his eyes, ducked out of Harry’s embrace, and sauntered off across the shop floor. Harry stared after him for a moment or two, then slowly followed him.

The display with the nipple clamps proved to be a delightful experience since the available collection featured an impressive range of clamps. One could, of course, always use wooden or plastic clothes pegs, however, since these were next to impossible to properly sterilise, Harry wasn’t a fan of them at all. _Pleasure_ ’s nipple clamps were stylish, had a luxurious feel to them and featured special designer pieces from renowned jewellers from all over the world.

While Draco’s eyes slowly swept over the available items, Harry followed his gaze with curiosity. For a moment, Draco lingered over the nipple suckers which increased sensitivity and blood flow but Harry thought that Draco had no need for those. His nipples were already sensitive enough and Harry got an immense amount of pleasure out of teasing, sucking, biting, nibbling, licking, and kissing them. He also rather enjoyed pinching, twisting, and pulling on them and the more the thought about it, the more he wanted to drag Draco home, strip him naked and play with his nipples until Draco begged him for his release.

Harry resolutely pulled himself together and taking half a step back, he gave the remainder of the selection a cursory glance — not because he felt bored but because he needed to protect his own sanity. Still, he couldn’t help but notice that Draco spent an exceptionally large amount of time looking at the leather tassel clamps and the nipple rings that did not actually pierce the skin but looked like they did. Harry owned a pair — they pinched the nipples perfectly and looked quite gorgeous.

Apart from the standard nipple clamps such as the sort of clamps that could be adjusted with the help of a tiny screw, aesthetically pleasing adjustable and not adjustable clover clamps, tweezers, and, of course, vibrating clamps as well as weights, _Pleasure_ also offered a lovely selection of beaded nipple huggers, nipple shields to keep those nubs perfectly erect, hard, and deliciously sensitive.

Harry’s secret favourite was the type of clamp that didn’t apply a lot of pressure but was fully adjustable and fitted snugly around a nipple. All the designs were elaborate and since he and Draco had started dating, he’d taken a strong liking to the thin stainless-steel ring clamps with a beautiful snake slithering around the nipple ring — what appealed to Harry the most, however, was the fact that the snake’s eyes were made up of two small round emeralds that sparkled brightly in the light and since the clamps did not pierce the skin and the pressure was really mild they could be comfortably worn all day.

Taking a step closer to Draco, Harry once again wrapped his arms around him, hugging him from behind, then rested his chin on Draco’s shoulder. He pointed at the nipple jewellery in question and Draco turned his head slightly as his eyes instantly followed his finger.

“Those,” Harry whispered. “They aren’t clamps but a naughty accessory for everyday wear, it’s kinky jewellery. I’d love to see you in these, my little prince. They are just perfect for you; don’t you think so?”

Draco exhaled slowly and Harry sneakily let his right hand slither up his chest and lightly pinched his left nipple through his shirt.

“I can just imagine putting these on you in the morning before you head to work, then when you come home in the evening, I’ll take you upstairs, use a pair of silken bonds to fasten your hands to the bedposts and a blindfold to help you focus on the sensations. Then I’ll slowly undo your shirt, push it apart and kiss every inch of your gloriously pale skin before flicking my tongue over your nipples, kissing them, and nibbling on them until I have you writhing in pleasure underneath me.”

Falling silent, Harry grazed his fingernail over Draco’s nipple and felt him shiver. He let out a low moan, not much louder than a breathy sigh, and his hand found Harry’s.

Instead of pulling it away, he, however, simply wrapped his fingers around Harry’s wrist and squeezed lightly. Harry responded by rubbing his fingertip over Draco’s slowly hardening nipple, then grazed it with his nail again.

“I want to twist it until you groan and bite it until the sweet sting turns you to putty in my hand.”

“Harry, please—”

“Please what, my little prince?”

“We’re in the middle of a shop.”

“Nobody can see what I’m doing,” Harry assured.

“They have security cameras, I’m not stupid.”

“Hm, yes, those can probably see what I’m doing. And they should, I bet you have that gloriously blissed-out expression on your face, the one I just can’t get enough of.”

Harry rubbed his thumb over Draco’s nipple, pressing against the hard nub and teasing it further. Draco’s silken shirt simply added to the sensations.

“Please—”

Draco let out a low whimper.

Harry pressed a kiss to Draco’s neck.

“Please what?”

Harry pushed again, nibbling on Draco’s earlobe, and exhaling through his nose to blow hot breath over the sensitive shell.

Draco shuddered.

“Please, I want them,” he whispered.

Harry smiled against the side of Draco’s neck and pressed a kiss to his jugular vein.

“Please _who_?”

“Please, Sir.”

“No.”

Draco let out an anguished sort of hum, clearly displeased over Harry’s denial after teasing him so blatantly and for so long. He then surprised Harry and instead of giving up, he continued to beg.

“Please, Sir, please.”

“Do you want them that much?”

“Yes— Please, Sir.”

“Hm, no.”

Harry remained resolute.

“Please.”

“No.”

“ _Ngh_ , please, Sir, please.”

Harry chuckled. He couldn’t believe that Draco was begging him for a pair of non-piercing nipple rings. There was something intensely erotic about that. Draco wasn’t begging for release; it probably wasn’t even on his mind. He simply wanted some jewellery; Harry had deliberately teased him into desiring.

“No.”

“I want them.”

“I know you do.”

“Then, please. I asked really nicely.”

Draco twisted his head around and pouted petulantly. He looked every bit like a little prince who wanted his favourite toy but didn’t have permission to get it.

“Hm, is your inner little coming out to play?”

Instead of glowering at him, Draco stuck his bottom lip out even further.

Harry smirked.

“I thought we’d already established that I’m a cruel bastard.”

“I take that back, you’re not.”

“Are you sure? And here I am doing my best to show you what a cruel bastard is like.”

“I want them,” Draco insisted.

Harry couldn’t help but wonder whether their conversation might end with Draco stomping his foot and crossing his arms over his chest like a little boy in a strop. He didn’t think so but he rather liked the fantasy and especially liked the idea of being able to punish Draco for being seriously bratty in public.

“Well, you can’t have them.”

“You’re not playing fair. You’re practically pushing me into breaking the rules.”

“My sweet little prince, I never said I would play fair. I would have thought that you know that by now. Whether you’re going to break the rules or not is entirely up to you.”

“Please, say yes.”

“I admire your persistence but no.”

Draco ground his teeth together and pursed his lips. He was clearly fighting with himself, desperately trying not to make a seriously bratty remark that would most definitely get him into trouble.

“A bargain then. You say yes and I’ll give you something in return.”

Harry smiled.

“What would you like to give me in return?”

“Anything you want.”

Harry’s eyes gleamed and his smile turned into a positively wolfish grin.

“Your arse. Bend over for me and let me turn it red with a toy of my choice while you wear those gorgeous clamps for me and twist your nipples before and after each strike.”

Draco slowly turned around in Harry’s loose embrace and a flitter of hesitation crossed over his face, then fierce determination won the battle and he nodded.

“Sir, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

Harry winked.

“Great. Now be a good boy and pick a couple of clamps for the gift basket and when you’re done come find me on the first floor.”

Draco inclined his head and Harry made for the circular black iron staircase a little further away but once he reached the bottom of the staircase he turned around and called out to Draco, who promptly turned around.

“Just so you know, I would have said yes eventually.”

Draco shot him a positively poisonous glower and rather pleased with himself and his own Slytherinish cunningness, Harry merely smiled, blew Draco a kiss and headed up the stairs.

About ten minutes later, Draco joined him and they spent a joyous half hour picking out rather racy underwear, though Draco made it very clear that he had no interest in wearing any of the items and was perfectly happy with the customised boxer briefs Harry had gifted him a couple of months ago. When Harry, however, pointed out a pair of loose dark green silken panties with tiny silicone nubs attached to the string that fitted snugly between one’s buttocks and pleasantly teased the wearer’s hole and well as perineum, Draco’s resolve faltered a little and after a suggestive look or two, he gave in altogether and agreed to give the wicked panties a try.

Harry was entirely unsuccessful at hiding his triumphant grin and Draco rolled his eyes at him and although Harry could tell that there was a sassy remark on the very tip of his tongue, it never made it past Draco’s lips, which remained firmly sealed.

After confirming that Stefan had a bit of a cross-dressing kink, Draco got positively bold and on top of several pairs of boxer briefs with black lace strips that covered one’s bits and the crack between the butt cheeks, he also picked a pair of red briefs in the shape of an elephant’s trunk, a hot waiter costume, a pair of boxer briefs with a detachable leather jockstrap bulge pouch, an assortment of colourful lace waist briefs and several luxuriously soft silk G-string thong briefs with a lace sissy pouch made with silk threads, along with two pairs of matching stylish fishnet stockings.

They then moved on to the pet play section and Draco instantly pointed at a pure white foxy outfit with a furry headpiece, pet paws, furry leg pieces and a seventy-five-centimetre-long furry tail with a 7.5-centimetre-long stainless-steel anal plug.

Harry smirked and made an offhanded comment of revisiting the idea of a customised dragon tail plug for Draco, which earned him a hard glare and made him pull Draco into his arms and snog him until he was breathlessly panting for air.

“You’d look so sexy with a dragon tail, my little prince,” he teased.

Draco continued to glower, or tried to at least, but wasn’t entirely successful since trying to fill his lungs with some much-needed oxygen took precedence. Once he’d managed to regain a resemblance of composure, he straightened up and smiled.

“Perhaps a special gift for your birthday, Director Potter.”

“That sounds like a delightful promise,” Harry said. “As for the furry costume, yes.”

“I’m glad you’re being sensible for once, Potter,” Draco responded.

“Evidentially you’ve found you sass again.”

Draco smirked.

“I never lost it.”

“Now, now, we both know I can make you lose it really fast.”

“I think I’m going to have to try my hand at being a brat more often.”

“If only that was in your nature.”

“Never say never, Potter, I may surprise you yet.”

“As may I, Malfoy.”

Draco chuckled.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

With that he walked off to browse through the role play outfits and Harry smirked and thought, _aren’t you just, my little prince_.

They picked out several items to compliment the hot waiter underwear Draco had chosen earlier, and when he pointed at a black-and-white striped prisoner outfit, Harry nodded in agreement. Lastly, they added a racy chef’s outfit and Harry almost lost his resolve to remain firm when Draco suggested they should gift Caleb a thoroughly indecent firefighter outfit.

“He’ll kill us both with his bare hands,” Harry said.

Instead, he pointed at a pair of obnoxiously high red heels for men and delighted in the apprehensive look Draco cast at the shoes.

“Murder weapons,” he said.

“As a prosecutor, you’d know all about those.”

“Don’t I just. There are a couple of delightfully untraceable poisons, you know.”

“Are you planning my execution?”

“Nah, the sex is too good.”

Harry laughed.

“Is that the only reason you’re sparing my life?”

Draco grinned devilishly.

“Perhaps.”

“And here I thought I was a half decent boyfriend. You just broke my heart, Malfoy, you absolutely did.”

“Aw, you Gryffindors, no backbone whatsoever. Or is that your inner Hufflepuff coming out?”

“You just wait until I get you home, I’ll show you my inner Slytherin. You’ll be on your knees begging me please before you’ve taken your jacket off.”

Draco gave him a positively wolfish smirk and sliding his jacket off, he draped it over his shoulder, then defiantly crossed his arms over his chest and raised a suggestive eyebrow.

“Still standing, Sir. You’re all talk and no action.”

“Don’t think I won’t remember all that sass, you naughty little thing.”

“Hm, Sir, don’t be making me promises now, you’ve got me all hot and bothered.”

Letting out a low growl, Harry lunged forward and grabbed Draco’s wrists. He swiftly uncrossed Draco’s arms, then, without the slightest warning, pulled them behind Draco’s back and yanked them up just high enough for it to be mildly uncomfortable.

Draco yelped and struggled.

“You’re being decidedly too naughty for my liking, little prince,” Harry growled and without further ado, he frogmarched Draco up the circular black iron staircase that led to the second floor and straight over to the impact play toy selection — his own almost rivalled it.

“I think we’ll find exactly what you need right here. A pair of tight leather cuffs, for your wrists _and_ your ankles, of course, a nice collar, a ball gag to shut you up good and proper. We might have to give my St Andrew’s cross a run for its galleons, don’t you think my pretty precious little prince?”

Draco’s objection was a half-baked attempt at a struggle to free his arms from behind his hand and a fruitless verbal protest that could just as well have been a moan.

“ _Ngh_!”

“Pick a toy,” Harry hissed right into his ear.

Draco trembled, had another futile go at freeing himself, then stopped struggling altogether.

“Harry, please,” he whispered.

“Please, what?”

“I’ll be good.”

“I’ve heard that before. Pick a toy.”

“I promise.”

“Hm, yes, heard that before too. Pick a toy.”

“ _Ngh_! I swear.”

“No. Pick. A. Toy. Don’t make me say it again.”

Draco fell silent and Harry could tell that his eyes were sweeping over the various impact play toys. The look of a few of them made him shudder and holding Draco’s hands behind his back with one hand only, Harry wrapped the other around his waist and pulled him flush against his body.

Several minutes went by and Harry peppered Draco’s neck with tiny kisses, reminding and reassuring him that he wasn’t angry and that it would be perfectly OK for Draco to use his safeword if he wanted to end their playful little exchange of power.

Draco relaxed completely at Harry’s comforting promise and when Harry let go of his wrists, he did not move his hands, not even an inch. The submissive gesture made Harry smile and he pressed a lingering kiss to Draco’s cheek.

“There’s got to be one toy here that takes your fancy,” he pushed a little.

Draco swallowed hard and his right hand twitched as if he wanted to pull it out from behind his back and point at the toy of his choice but he didn’t give in to the temptation and after another moment of silence, he lightly cleared his throat.

“The paddle,” he whispered.

“Excellent choice, my little prince. I happen to have several in my playroom. I’m sure I’ll find a suitable one for playtime later.”

Draco whimpered softly and Harry kissed his cheek again.

“Now be a good boy and go pick a paddle for the gift basket.”

“Yes, Sir,” Draco mumbled quietly.

“See, you can be such a good boy when you want to be.”

Harry chuckled softly and letting go of Draco, he walked off to peruse the nearby selection of gags while Draco dithered over which paddle to pick. Granted, he lacked the required knowledge to pick one based on sting-factor and handiness but he was smart and resourceful and Harry had every faith in him.

About ten minutes past before Draco joined him and when he did, he immediately pointed at a rather simple leather stainless-steel O-ring gag.

“Not for me,” he said quickly.

Harry chuckled.

“Ah, but what fun would it be to fuck your pretty mouth, my little prince, while you can do absolutely nothing about it.”

Draco looked at him with perfectly feigned disapproval and Harry smiled.

“I assume you have one?” he asked.

Harry nodded.

“Of course, I do.”

“Why did I even bother asking?”

“Because you’re my curious little prince and I love you for it.”

This time, Draco did roll his eyes, then pointed at the gag.

Harry shook his head.

“No.”

Draco sighed.

“And we’re back to you saying no to all the fun stuff, good to know.”

Harry smirked.

“I won’t say no to having fun with you later, sweet one.”

“Well, that would be entirely counterproductive.”

“I think so too.”

“What do you know, Potter, we’re finally in agreement about something. And don’t for a minute think that I haven’t realised that you’re trying to fuck with my mind here. At this stage, you’ve done it often enough for me to know the signs.”

“Hm, yes you never resist them. I do wonder why that is.”

Draco rolled his eyes, then gave him a pointed _this-conversation-is-over-_ look and walked off to examine a selection of floggers with mild curiosity.

Harry mostly kept in the background, perched himself on a leather-padded barstool nearby a round table with a wide range of candles specially made for wax play and for the next half hour he thoroughly enjoyed turning down several of Draco’s suggestions for the gift basket.

Which each no, Draco’s vexation became increasingly obvious but he kept his composure beautifully.

When Harry turned down several floggers, he merely shrugged and suggested several different types of restraints. Harry said no to handcuffs, a spreader bar, steel shackles, leather cuffs with and without fur lining, silken ties, and yet more rope.

He also said no to three different riding crops, which made Draco frown and it threw him off his game for a second, however, he caught himself moments later and reached for a beautiful handmade leather horsewhip made from genuine cattle skin. The braided black calfskin around the birch wood handle made for a steady grip and the weights at the top and bottom of the handle aided balance and reduced wrist strain.

Harry was rather surprised but also pleased to see Draco grip the whip comfortably — given what had transpired at the club only a few months ago. It was a short whip and the dragon tail-shaped tip at the end of the thong made Harry smile. He watched Draco swish the whip tentatively, though there was no force coming from his wrist.

Smiling, Harry slid off the bar stool and walked over to Draco.

“You’re not holding it quite right, my love,” he said softly and reached for Draco’s hand.

“How?” Draco asked.

Harry took his hand and slid the whip handle from it.

“First of all, the wrist strap always goes around the wrist. If you do accidentally let go of the handle you won’t send it sailing across the room,” he said as he slipped Draco’s hand through the strap and let it rest around Draco’s wrist.

“Now, if you hold it like you just did, you have the end of the handle resting against your wrist and that’s no good. Your swing will be off because you can’t get any traction with it. Instead, just hold it in your hand, with your palm and fingers wrapped around it.”

Harry paused to adjust Draco’s grip, then nodded when he closed his fingers around the handle.

“No, don’t squeeze. Hold it comfortably so that it doesn’t slip but don’t squeeze. That’s tiring, your wrist will complain after two cracks.”

“Hm, this doesn’t seem to difficult,” Draco said.

Harry smiled.

“It’s not,” he said.

He pulled Draco to the centre of the shop floor where there was an ample amount of free space and since the whip’s thong was short, Harry wasn’t worried about hitting anything. He silently moved to stand behind Draco and wrapping one arm around his waist, he placed the other on top of Draco’s hand on the whip’s handle, then raised it into the air.

Draco let out a soft gasp and grasped the handle tightly.

Harry pressed his lips to Draco’s ear.

“Don’t, let me guide you.”

“Yes, Sir,” Draco whispered.

Harry smiled and pressed a kiss to the side of his neck, making Draco shudder.

“Ready, my little prince?”

“Hm, yes, Sir.”

“Good, close your eyes. Feel and listen.”

Harry adjusted his grip slightly, then guided Draco to crack the whip. The thong cut through the air and the loud crack caused Draco to jump a little but Harry merely tightened his hold and the firm hug had the desired effect of helping Draco to relax.

“Again?”

“Yes, please, Sir.”

“Hm, such a good boy,” Harry praised.

He brought his and Draco’s arms up, briefly flexed his fingers to adjust his hold, then concentrated and cracked the whip a second time. It cut through the air with another loud crack and the dragon tail-shaped leather tip at the end of the thong landed on the wooden floor with a light thud. This time, Draco didn’t jump and Harry kissed his neck and praised him for his composure.

“Can I please watch?” Draco asked.

“Sure,” Harry said. “Open your eyes, my little prince.”

He brought up their arms again and silently counting to three he cracked the whip for the third time. A third loud crack reverberated around the large room and Draco gasped with surprise.

“This is intense,” he whispered.

“It sure is. Have a try.”

“Harry, no, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can, go on,” Harry encouraged and lifted his hand off Draco’s hand and the whip’s handle.

He hugged Draco with both arms, pulled him flush against his body and gave Draco’s feet a little nudge, spreading them a little further apart.

“There, now you’ve got a more balanced stance. Don’t lock your knees, my love. Relax. You can do this.”

Draco let out a little sigh but followed his instructions, then inhaled deeply and lifting his arm, he took another deep breath and cracked the whip through the air. The thong flew out and away and a beautiful cracking noise filled Harry’s ears, then a soft thud as the tip landed on the floor.

“That was absolutely perfect. You have talent, my sweet little prince.”

Draco chuckled softly.

“Maybe I should take up a new hobby.”

“Why not? There are loads of people who do. You can practice your precision by knocking things off a chair. It’s actually a lot of fun and great exercise.”

“Potter, you have the strangest pastimes.”

“I don’t crack whips for fun, Malfoy. Charlie does. He’s brilliant at it. He’ll cut a single leaf off a tree with one crack.”

“I’m changing my mind. You don’t have weird hobbies. Those dragon tamers out in Romania, however, they do.”

Harry chuckled and kissed Draco’s cheek.

“You’re naturally talented. You could learn a lot from Charlie, I mean it.”

“Aren’t you the least bit scared I’ll turn around and crack the whip over your back?” Draco asked.

“Oh, my little prince, you don’t scare me. You do always seem to forget that I can turn you into putty with a few words or a touch.”

Draco turned around glowered.

“That’s only because I let you.”

“Hm, yes, I know.”

Harry smiled and took the whip from Draco.

“It’s a no, by the way.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

Draco rolled his eyes and extracting himself from Harry’s embrace he took the whip back and walked off, though not in a huff but to return it to its rightful hook.

Meanwhile, Harry made his way back to the barstool and perching himself on it, he laughed when Draco showed him a rattan cane and pretended to use it as a fencing sword.

“En-garde!”

Harry laughed, then, in a surprise move, nodded.

“Yes, you can put that one in the gift basket.”

Draco’s eyes widen momentarily, then he grinned.

“I thought you’d forgotten the word.”

Harry winked.

“Nope, just wanted to drive you a bit insane.”

“Didn’t work.”

“Did.”

Harry smiled and watched as Draco marked the item in the little booklet, then walked over to him. As he approached, Harry shifted and properly seated himself on the stool. He spread his legs apart and Draco wordlessly stepped in-between them. He rested his forearms on Harry’s shoulders, toyed with his hair, and smiled.

“Are we done, Sir?”

“Do you want to be?”

“Hm, yes.”

Draco nodded.

“Then we’re done. You did well.”

“The same cannot be said about you, Director Potter, Sir, for you push and bend the rules to your own liking.”

“Are you complaining, my little prince?”

Draco shook his head.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

“Ah, yes, you are my good little prince, after all.”

“Most of the time.”

Harry smirked.

“So, you finally admit that you have your moments.”

“I will do no such thing.”

“You just d—”

Harry was unable to finish the sentence because Draco pressed his lips against his and kissed him.

“Hmpf.”

Swallowing the rest of whatever had been on the tip of his tongue, Harry sneaked his arms around Draco’s waist, pulled him closer and returned the kiss with fervent enthusiasm. He charmed his way into Draco’s mouth, wound his tongue around Draco’s and enticed it to chase his own back into his mouth.

Draco let out a low moan, threaded his fingers through Harry’s hair and tugged on it. In response, Harry let his hands slip down to Draco’s arse and squeezed the firm cheeks possessively.

By the time they pulled away, they were both breathless and their eyes had darkened several shades. Harry brought one hand up to cup Draco’s cheek, smiled softly, and pressed his thumb to Draco’s red wet kiss-swollen lips.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered.

Draco flushed a little and blinked.

“You really are, I love you.”

Draco puckered his lips a little and pressed a kiss to Harry’s thumb.

“I love you too,” he breathed.

He wrapped his arms tightly around Harry and resting his cheek on his shoulder, he snuggled close. Harry responded by hugging him that little bit tighter and they stood like this for several minutes, not talking, not kissing, just hugging.

Eventually, though, Draco slowly pulled away and reached for one of the soy wax candles on the table beside them. He lifted it up and expected it curiously.

“I assume these aren’t for a romantic candlelight dinner for two.”

“They could be, but no, they aren’t. Wax play.”

Draco’s eyes widened slightly.

“You mean like dripping hot wax onto somebody?”

Harry nodded.

“Yes.”

“That’s got to hurt like hell.”

Draco shuddered and went to put the candle down again but Harry caught his hand and stopped him from doing so.

“If done wrong, yes, if done right it is the most intense and most beautiful experience ever.”

Draco scrunched up his face and shook his head.

Harry smiled what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

“It’s not an ordinary candle, Draco. This is a pure soy candle. It has no additives to make it harder and it’s quite soft. It does make clean up a little messy but melts at around fifty-four degrees Celsius. To give you a comparison, a candle made of pure beeswax burns at sixty-three degrees Celsius and is most definitely not suitable for wax play. It will burn you and that’s never the intention with wax play.”

“What is? Playing with fire?”

Draco looked quite uncomfortable and Harry sought out the pulse point on his wrist and caressed it softly. It seemed to help Draco to focus and his expression softened a little.

“No, while some people enjoy playing with fire in the literal sense of the phrase, I’m not one of those people. Wax play, however, I love. For someone to trust me this explicitly as to lie down in front of me and allow me to drip hot wax all over them, perhaps even tie them up, blindfold them and later flog the wax off their skin, I find that almost more erotic than actual intercourse. There’s a connection there, a deep intense connection you’ve got to feel to understand. This candle, a mild stinging sensation is all you’ll feel with each drop. It all depends on what height I drip the melted wax onto your bare skin, and, of course, a couple of other things, but I could hurt you more with my bare hand.”

“The idea terrifies me, Harry.”

“I’m not surprised, not after what happened at the club.”

“It’s not that, I can handle a burning candle, it doesn’t bother me, but the idea that you’re dripping melted wax onto my skin—”

Draco fell silent and shuddered. He looked at the candle with trepidation and Harry gently pried it from his hand.

“Draco, what’s our number one rule?”

“Safe, sane, and consensual.”

“And?”

“You’ll never want anything I don’t want.”

“And?”

“I’m in control.”

“Well, now that we’ve reminded ourselves about the rules, relax and take a deep breath or several. Please remember, I would never drip hot wax on you without your explicit approval. I wouldn’t even push you into trying it. I’ve always liked it and yes I have tried it on my own body so I know exactly what it feels like but I absolutely need you to understand that I would never expect you to try something like this just because I like it.”

A soft smile crept onto Draco’s face and he took the candle from Harry and inspected it from all angles.

“I assume you have some in your playroom?” he asked.

Harry nodded.

“I do, white, red, green, and black.”

“Does the colour make a difference in the temperature?”

Harry shook his hand.

“No, there’s a myth going around that it does but it is not true. Well, it’s true for your average candle, the one you might put on a dinner table or on the edge of the bathtub but these are candles you can enjoy from a distance; they are not suitable for wax play. I have pure soy candles and the red, green, and black ones have been coloured with natural additives that have no impact on the melting point whatsoever. I also have a couple of paraffin candles, like that one over there, these burn at about fifty-seven degrees Celsius and sting a bit more.”

“You did your research.”

Harry smiled and nodded.

“Anyone who doesn’t but attempts wax play ought to have their arse whipped. You want this to be a memorable experience, not one that ends with permanent burn scars.”

Draco chuckled softly and placed the candle back on the table.

“Such eloquence.”

Harry shrugged.

“The truth does not need a fanciful description.”

“As a prosecutor, I can get behind that statement.”

Harry took both of Draco’s hands and squeezed them gently, reassuringly.

“I do like it when we agree on things. Now, how about we head home but stop for coffee and cake along the way?”

“I’m not saying no to that suggestion. You’re paying.”

“Of course, I am. Let’s head downstairs and give Kat the booklet. She can get everything ready and we can pick it up after we have afternoon tea.”

“Afternoon coffee,” Draco corrected with a smirk.

“Yes, well, but that’s not a very British expression. In fact, it’s not an expression at all.”

“Then we’ll make it one.”

“And you tell me I’m weird.”

“That’s because you are, Potter. And it’s rubbing off on me.”

“As usual, I’m the culprit.”

“Too, right, guilty as charged.”

Harry laughed, then snatched the booklet from Draco’s jeans pocket and pushed himself off the barstool. He laced his fingers through Draco’s and tugged him towards the staircase but stopped before taking the first step down. He turned to face Draco and held his gaze for a moment.

“Are we good?”

Draco nodded.

“I’m not freaked out, well not completely.”

“OK, that’s good then. Let’s go.”

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, you have this incredibly idea of sending your characters to a sex shop to go shopping. 
> 
> Well, great idea, except it inevitably requires mentioning a whole bunch of sex toys and while researching those is the easy and fun part, the list of toys is practically endless and after struggling to come up with a comprehensive list, I handed the job off to somebody else.
> 
> Once I had a list of kinky toys, I obviously needed to choose several items from the list Harry would allow Draco to pick and another bunch of items Draco would try to pick but that Harry would firmly say _no_ to. Since I couldn't make up my mind, I asked a very good friend for help and for an enjoyable afternoon I proceeded to choose a toy from our list and send it to him, leaving the power of _yay_ or _nay_ entirely in his hands - there was only one item on the entire list I chose myself (since I needed it for the chapter) and if you want, you are welcome to have a guess what it might have been.
> 
> Dominance and submission can be that easy, you know. You're supposed to write something yet you're stuck, so you hand control over to somebody else and then you end up stuck with a set of rules you have to stick to. I couldn't think if anything better or sweeter.


	67. Under Lock And Key

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the middle of final prep for my trip back home to Europe and everything is a bit maniac but I promise updates will continue. I’ve split up a few chapters so there’s more chapters now but not more story. I’ve uploaded all chapters and they are in draft-format and ready to go. No, you will not be getting them all at once.
> 
> I will continue to catch up on responses to comments, however it will take me a bit more time. While I’m not travelling to the ends of the world and forgotten items can be easily purchased, I’d like to avoid frivolous spending of money and ensure I’ve at least packed the basics.
> 
>  
> 
> Finally, it occurred to me that my soapbox has been catching dust lately so I've decided to bring it out for a bit of an announcement because I've something I'd very much like to get off my chest.
> 
> You know what irks me to no end and what's a massive pet peeve of mine? When collars are made out to be an unimportant little aspect of BDSM or worse when the submissive goes shopping for a collar and presents it to their Dominant partner for them to use on them during playtime / other occasions. There is literally no chance of anything like this ever happening in real life and to assume that "ah, but what I'm writing is fiction" and that you can therefore spin it that way is, plainly speaking, unacceptable.
> 
> Collars are hugely important in BDSM and they represent a _"physical symbol of ownership and denote the role of the submissive within the D/s lifestyle"_. It is **NOT** a small thing, it's **NOT** a piece of leather (or other material) that is simply given to a submissive by their Dominant and any story that portrays a collar in that way makes my blood boil. I've seen it too many times and it's seriously got to stop. It's wrong, wrong, wrong. It's a key indicator of little to no research and a distinctive lack of understanding when it comes to the lifestyle. Accurate information can easily be found by doing a bit of research, Google will give you the right answer.
> 
> For anyone who is interested, here's a very informative article on collars in BDSM and their different uses, it's well worth a read: ["Collars in BDSM"](https://limitsunleashed.com/2014/12/20/bdsm-collars/)  
> *steps back down from soapbox*
> 
> OK, I've said what I came to say, now, please do enjoy the chapter. This one is quite special and very dear to me.
> 
> Love,  
> Selly x

Harry wasn’t quite sure when Draco’s favourite Notting Hill coffee shop had become _their_ coffee shop but he rather enjoyed the idea of it; the coffee shop did hold special memories for them both.

At some point or other Draco had simply started to refer to it as _their_ place and just like that _let’s go to our place_ had become synonymous with _let’s go for coffee_ or _let’s have brunch on Saturday_ and Harry had neither questioned it nor rejected the idea of them having their own special place outside of the bubble, they’d created for themselves inside Draco’s flat as well as at Grimmauld Place. It was nice to have a home away from home, so to speak. Something that belonged just to them, something that marked the beginning of their relationship but was otherwise entirely devoid of any darker memories from their pasts.

When the young barista at the coffee machine called out his and Draco’s finished coffee order, she effectively stopped Harry from going off into a world of his own or at least from jumping too far down the rabbit hole and reminiscing about his and Draco’s relationship and how nearly a year had gone by and they’d somehow managed not to screw things up.

He glanced at the two ceramic cups, the barista had placed in front of him, along with a warm chocolate croissant, and with a deep frown etched across his forehead, he opened his mouth to vehemently object to what she’d done to Draco’s cappuccino but she’d already turned her back on him.

Shooting an icy death glare at her back, one Draco had taught him simply by using it on him any chance he got, Harry reached for the wooden tray with their order and picking it up, he looked around the coffee shop. He spotted Draco at their preferred table for two in a corner by the window — it was their usual spot and someone Draco always managed to snag it. The two fairly worn but extremely comfortable purple armchairs were Draco’s favourite and Harry couldn’t deny that he had good taste. They provided a perfect opportunity for physical ease and relaxation and Harry had this silly but persistent idea of talking to the coffee shop owner to purchase both armchairs and have them brought to Grimmauld Place.

He wanted to decorate a room up on the first floor for Draco. A place just for him, to relax, to read, or to work — a study or office of sorts. So far, he hadn’t run the idea by Draco and while he thought that Draco would most definitely appreciate the surprise, he was also wary of the conclusion Draco might draw from having a whole room at Grimmauld Place — somehow, Harry couldn’t help but think that it was an ill-advised way of asking Draco to move in together.

Harry shook his head and resolutely putting his sentimental thoughts down to the fact that he and Draco would attend Caleb’s and Stefan’s collaring ceremony a little later in the afternoon, he abandoned his musings and returned to the present.

As he focused on Draco, a soft smile curled around the edges of his mouth. Draco’s platinum-blond hair sparkled brightly in the spring sun. He’d gracefully folded himself into one of the armchairs, crossed one leg over the other and was staring out of the window, though Harry could tell that he was miles away and entirely oblivious to what was going on around him. Harry didn’t know to which place Draco had gone off to but he fervently hoped that his thoughts were happy and light. He didn’t like the idea of Draco being sombre or being in a melancholic mood.

For a moment, Harry allowed his heart to flutter and his chest filled with a childish kind of joy over the fact that Draco was his and revelled in the pleasure he got from simply watching him. Carefully balancing the tray with their coffees and Draco’s chocolate croissant, he weaved his way through the post-lunch coffee crowd.

Harry made it over to the table without spilling the coffee and put the tray down on the table. His arrival promptly pulled Draco out of his thoughts.

He turned his head to face him and smiled, softly, warmly, welcoming, open — an honest expression that hid nothing, not from him. Harry’s heart fluttered a little more and a single but decidedly large butterfly buried deep in the pit of his stomach soared up and took a massive leap.

“There you are. Thought you’d abandoned me.”

Harry rolled his eyes and pretended to look offended.

“I’d never do that and you know it, unlucky for you I don’t have quite _that_ much self-restraint. I’m afraid I do have bad news though; the barista turned your cappuccino into a latté. I think she’s new. I got you a chocolate croissant to make up for it.”

Draco smiled at the first half of his sentence, then frowned at the second half. His lips curled into a sly smile and he practically jumped at the opportunity to make a sassy comeback. It gave Harry all sorts of funny feelings.

“Liar. You’d have gotten me a chocolate croissant regardless; you love me that much.”

Draco instantly called him out on his bluff and looked rather smug.

Shrugging, Harry sat down across from him.

“Was worth a try,” he said. “And I love you a whole of a lot more than a chocolate croissant, though it was meant to be a humble token of my affection, yes, you’re right.”

“Pathetic, Potter, truly pathetic.”

Draco smirked and his eyes twinkled with mirth.

Harry reached for his coffee cup and leaning back in his armchair, he held Draco’s gaze and smiled softly as he enjoyed this moment of happy banter between them. He brought his cup up to his lips but didn’t drink. Instead, he inhaled and nodded approvingly.

“I wasn’t making an effort,” he said.

“That goes without saying.”

Draco chuckled and foregoing his cappuccino-turned-latté he took the plate with the chocolate croissant, pulled it closer to his side of the table, and picking the delicious pastry up, he took a hearty bite. He chewed slowly, licked his lips to clean them of any crumbs and melted chocolate, and an expression of complete bliss spread all over his face.

It turned Harry’s heart upside down.

This man, sat in front of him now, wasn’t the Draco he’d grown up with but it was most definitely the man he’d fallen head over heels in love with. He was smart, sassy, witty, and openly enjoyed all aspects of life. It truly did funny things to Harry and although the words never left his mouth, he conceded that Draco absolutely had the ability to make him want to surrender all sane thought as well as bring out his irresistible need to dominate.

“Spit it out already, Potter,” Draco said.

Harry left his thoughts behind, frowned and sipped on his coffee.

“Spit what out?” he asked.

“We've got a collaring ceremony to attend, one that you’re officiating no less. Why are we here having coffee?”

Harry cast a casual glance at his wristwatch.

“If you’re worried about us being late, don’t. We’re not going to be.”

“I’m not worried. I won’t be the one feeling Caleb’s wrath if he and Stefan have to wait for their officiator.”

Harry smirked and drank more coffee.

“Debatable. I could always tell him that you couldn’t decide what to wear.”

“If only you hadn’t picked my outfit last week that would actually be true. Now, the truth, please.”

Sitting forward, Harry gently set his cup down on the table, wrapped both his hands around it, and took a moment to simply look at Draco.

He looked stunning in his light-grey suit.

He’d left the two top buttons of his crisp white shirt unbuttoned to give it a more casual feel and instead of wearing his collar, he wore a thin silver necklace around his neck with a small pendant in the shape of the letter _H_ — it really wasn’t a special piece of jewellery yet it meant absolutely everything to Harry. It was neither a commissioned piece nor did it have any expensive adornments but the simplicity of it was exactly what made it priceless.

Tucked away underneath his dark-green silken shirt, Harry wore a matching necklace, however, the small pendant attached to his necklace was in the shape of the letter _D_.

They’d come across the simple but beautiful necklaces one evening about two weeks ago while strolling down Portobello Road in the hope of digesting a rich Italian dinner at a local eatery. The jewellery shop sold necklaces with pendants in the shape of every letter of the alphabet but when Draco had held up both necklaces and goofily grinned at him, Harry had purchased them on a whim. Ever since that evening, Draco hadn’t taken his off and Harry liked to think of it as a permanent collar of sorts and although he hadn’t shared his thoughts with Draco, he could sense that Draco felt the same.

“The club. We haven’t been back since the fire whip incident. I just wanted to make sure that you’re OK.”

Draco smiled softly and the warmth that radiated from his silvery-grey eyes caused Harry’s heart to flutter again, though he couldn’t help but wonder whether it had ever stopped. They’d talked about going back to the club and Harry had expressed his worry about Draco’s ability to cope but after a lengthy conversation, he’d believed Draco when he’d assured him that he had a handle on things.

Now, with their arrival at the club only a couple of hours away, Harry simply had to check in with Draco one last time. Since he would be officiating the ceremony, he wouldn’t be able to spend every minute with Draco and he needed to know that he would be all right.

“I am. It’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure? I mean I’ll stay with you as much as possible but—”

“Potter, would you get your briefs out of a twist already, please? I’m nearly twenty-eight years old, I don’t need a babysitter. I’ll be fine and if for whatever reason, I stop being fine, I’ll tell you. Or Charlie, if you happen to be busy with Caleb and Stefan.”

Leaning a little further forward, Harry let go of his coffee mug and reaching out, he took both of Draco’s hands into his own and squeezed them gently.

“I love you. I worry. Don’t take offence.”

“I’m not. I’m being sarcastic about it otherwise I’ll melt into a pile of goo and proclaim my undying love to you.”

Harry chuckled.

“And what would be so wrong about you melting into a pile of goo and proclaiming your undying love for me? It’s not like you haven’t done it before.”

Draco frowned.

“That ought to be obvious, Potter. I’d have to get on my knees to do so and I’d hate to ruin my suit before the party starts. It would also result in everyone around us believing that I just popped the question and I refuse to do it in a coffee shop of all places.”

Harry really wanted to ask what was wrong about proposing in a coffee shop but he was too busy bursting out laughing. Several of the nearby patrons shot him rather strange looks and forcing himself to get a grip on his unexpected laughing fit, he looked rather apologetic and took a few deep breaths.

“Draco Malfoy, you truly are one of a kind. I hope you know what I’ll make you do later tonight.”

“Get on my knees while I’m still wearing the suit?”

Harry nodded.

“I’ve no objections to that so long as you make me do that _after_ the party. No kinky shenanigans beforehand.”

“Duly noted. I’ll be on my best behaviour, my little prince.”

“You better be, Director Potter, or else.”

“Should I be scared?”

“Oh absolutely,” Draco said with a rather solemn expression.

He pulled his hands away and picking up his chocolate croissant, he took another bite from it.

“Remember, thanks to you, I now know how to wield a whip.”

“Uh, Prosecutor Malfoy. You’re such a fierce dragon when you want to be.”

Draco grinned.

“You haven’t seen anything yet.”

Harry chuckled lightly.

“I guess I’ll have to stick around for a little longer then.”

Draco nodded quite vigorously.

“You absolutely have to.”

“Will you make it worth my while?”

Draco held his gaze for a moment, then reached for his cappuccino cup and brought it up to his lips but didn’t drink just yet.

“We’ll both make it worthwhile,” he said softly.

Harry’s heart melted just a little more at the simple promise and he found himself nodding quietly in acquiescence and he watched in silence as Draco drank, or tried to anyway, his cappuccino-turned-latté. He grimaced at once and spat the coffee back into the cup.

“Salazar’s wand! This is abysmal. That’s not even a latté! This brew doesn’t qualify as coffee, it’s a complete insult to my taste buds and every coffee farmer north and south of the equator. I’m going to complain,” he said and rose to his feet.

Harry smiled.

“Just don’t curse her, please. If I have to call the Obliviators and we have to bring her to St. Mungo’s we’ll most definitely be late for the ceremony.”

Draco gave him a pointed look.

“Potter, I passed the bar exam. Believe it or not but I know how to use _words_ to get the message across.”

Harry grinned.

“I swear, Malfoy, one of these days I’m going to buy one of these Muggle smartphones and start taking videos. Our chi—”

Harry cut himself off before he said something entirely inappropriate but it was too late.

Draco frowned at him, narrowed his eyes, and held his gaze for the longest time, then relaxed and a truly wicked smirk crept onto his face. He leant forward, braced himself on the table with on hand, and lowered his voice down to a whisper.

“It’s called a Pensieve, Potter. It’s better than a Muggle smartphone ever will be. Why would you want to look at a video when we can actually relive the memory?”

“Hm, don’t know. Maybe because I can’t carry a Pensieve with me everywhere I go?”

Draco rolled his eyes, then straightened up again.

“You’re a wizard, Harry Potter, there are ways and means,” he said, then turned on his heel and walked off towards the counter.

Harry stared after him for several minutes, then shook his head and turned his attention back to his coffee. He reached for Draco’s half-eaten croissant and took a bite from it, relishing in the soft buttery pastry and the rich dark chocolate filling. He chewed for a while, then washed the remnants of the sweet baked dessert down with a large sip of coffee and took yet another bite.

He had no idea why he’d nearly told Draco that he wanted to make memories to show their children but he was glad that he’d stopped himself before he’d opened that can of worms. He was sure that Draco knew what he’d been about to say but he’d been smart enough not to point it out and Harry was grateful for his deliberate ignorance.

They didn’t even live together yet although these days they divided their time equally between Draco’s flat and Grimmauld Place. Plenty of Harry’s clothes, along with a spare set of his Auror uniform, had found their way into Draco’s flat and in return, plenty of Draco’s clothes and a few of his books had found a second home inside Grimmauld Place.

Still, contemplating something that was so far down the line that it was nothing more than a fantasy, a fleeting thought, wasn’t something Harry wanted to do. He wanted to focus on the here and now and turning his attention back to Draco, he silently watched him politely argue with the barista, then turn around to face him. He had a triumphant look on his face and with a grin, he gave him the thumbs up.

Harry smiled.

_My ferocious little prince, go get her_ , he thought fondly and turned his head to glance out of the window. He let his mind drift without holding on to anyone thought and when Draco returned a few minutes later, he focused his attention back to him.

“Another chocolate croissant?” he asked.

Draco shrugged.

“I knew you’d eat half of mine,” he said.

“How very astute of you, Draco Malfoy.”

“Careful with those big words now, Potter. I’ve got a whole thesaurus of them memorised. You don’t want me to open fire now, do you?”

“I fancy, I’d stand a chance.”

“Delusions of grandeur.”

Draco laughed and sipped on his cappuccino, then nodded in approval.

“Now this is what I call a satisfactory cup of cappuccino.”

* * *

* * *

Draco helped himself to champagne flute from the bar and moving to the side of the club’s function room, he looked around and smiled. Apart from an elegant portable bondage bench, that could also double as a spanking horse, the dungeon monitors had, in preparation for the ceremony, removed all other BDSM furniture from the room.

The bondage bench stood in the centre of a small platform, which took up most of the space in the play area. A beautiful white sheepskin rug covered the entire podium. Harry had taken his shoes off prior to climbing up onto the platform and after only two steps, and despite still wearing socks, he’d announced that the rug was the softest thing ever walked on.

Unable to resist the temptation to find out for himself, Draco had crouched down and run his fingers through the shaggy rug and even though half an hour had passed since he’d touched it, Draco still, and rather intensely so, remembered his sudden and unexpected desire to sprawl out on the rug while Harry towered above him.

He hadn’t said a word but he was sure that Harry had seen the longing in his eyes — the loving smile and his lingering gaze had been a silent promise of what might come later, long after the ceremony. It had quite effectively melted Draco’s heart and feeling entirely out of sorts he’d withdrawn to the back of the room to put a bit of distance between him and Harry’s ability to turn his mind to mush.

Shifting his gaze away from the podium and the cloth-covered table at the back of it, Draco casually surveyed the room. Guests had started to arrive and the catering service was serving drinks and little appetisers. Eight round tables, covered with an elegant black tablecloth, filled the large space in front of the raised platform. Each table seated six people each, although Caleb and Stefan had their own head table for just the two of them. A stylish red carpet, sprinkled with white and red rose petals, let from the door down the aisle between the guest tables and right up to the podium.

The white rose petals represented Stefan’s submission and his innocence, while the deep red rose petals represented Caleb’s commitment to the relationship and his willingness to shed blood to protect his partner and submissive.

According to Harry, it was an attempt to incorporate a small element of the very famous _Ceremony of Roses_ , traditionally often used during BDSM collaring ceremonies. However, as a surgical technologist and respiratory therapist, Stefan vehemently opposed the idea of the thorn of a rose pricking him in the finger and not even the promise to sterilise the rose stems with disinfectant had been enough to make him change his mind.

Draco took a very small sip of his champagne and smirked, then glanced at his fingertips. He couldn’t remember the number of times he’d inadvertently pricked himself with the knife he’d used to cut up potions’ ingredients. A mild healing spell had always done the trick but then again Stefan wasn’t a wizard and neither was Caleb.

“Are you hiding?”

Charlie pulled Draco right out of his thoughts and he turned his head to look at the red-headed Weasley. He’d dressed for the occasion, wearing a pacific lambswool suit and a sky-blue broadcloth shirt with the two top buttons casually undone. What with Charlie’s light-blue eyes the suit was a compelling combination and Draco nodded in silent approval.

These days, a well-dressed Weasley wasn’t that much of a rare sight, although Ron Weasley apparently still preferred Muggle jeans and ridiculous band t-shirts. Draco suspected he was doing it to avoid acknowledging the fact that he would be turning thirty in a couple of years.

“Yes, a well-deserved moment of silence before the madness finally starts.”

Draco answered Charlie’s question with a slight smile and took another small sip of champagne. It was his first glass and he intended for it to be his only glass. Well, perhaps a sip from a fresh flute to celebrate the happy couple.

“Everything alright?”

Draco huffed out a chuckle and held Charlie’s gaze for a moment.

“Did Potter send you to come to check up on me?” he asked and although his question was direct, it wasn’t scathing or mocking.

Charlie smiled, then shook his head.

“No. Just checking in on a friend. I don’t need Potter telling me to do that.”

Draco took a moment to gauge the truthfulness of Charlie’s statement, but he was neither staring nor trying to look away. He stood still with one hand casually wrapped around a tumbler of whiskey and the palm of his other hand resting at his side. There were no extravagant body movements or fidgeting and satisfied, Draco smiled.

“Thank you, Charlie.”

“Anytime.”

Charlie raised his glass, gently clinked it against Draco’s and took a sip of his drink, then motioned at Draco’s neck.

“No collar today?” he asked.

Draco smiled and shook his head.

“Nope, something better,” he said, showing Charlie the silver necklace with its _H_ -shaped pendant, Harry had placed around his neck about two weeks ago.

Charlie chuckled softly.

“You two are so in love, my own heart wants to burst just watching you.”

Draco smirked.

He wasn’t at all embarrassed about publicly showing his feelings for Harry. The fact that Harry’s friends had accepted him completely and without questioning Harry’s sanity made it even easier to be openly crazy in love with the one man who’d stolen his heart away and made sure to keep it under lock and key.

“Back in sixth year, if I’d known he’d turn into such a fine piece of arse with endless charisma and a fascinating aura of mystique, I’d have thrown myself at his feet right there and then. “That bathroom incident would have gone down differently, I can tell you that.”

Charlie threw his head back laughing.

“Did you ever tell him that?”

“Plenty of times, right along with the fact that him mounting a Firebolt to outfly a dragon, did strange things to my teenage libido, although back then I’d have sooner taken a Cruciatus Curse than admitting my cock had a thing for Potter.”

Charlie winked at him, then grinned broadly.

“I can hear those wedding bells chime, Malfoy.”

Draco rolled his eyes.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Weasley. It’s only been a year, not even.”

Charlie continued to grin and tapped the side of his nose.

Draco was about to make a remark, when Harry joined them, glanced back and forth between them both, then shook his head.

“I’m not even going to ask,” he said.

“Charlie thinks we should get married because I told him how you turned me gay in fourth year.”

Harry laughed heartily.

“You were gay long before I mounted that broom. And thank Merlin for that.”

Harry moved to stand next to him and when he slipped his arm around his waist, Draco leant into the touch and turning his head, he kissed Harry on the cheek then pressed his lips to his ear and exhaled softly, delighting in the almost casual way Harry moved even closer to him.

“How much deliberate public snogging will it take to turn Charlie green?” he whispered.

Harry chuckled, squeezed his hip, and pulled a little away from him, then turned his head.

“Let’s find out,” he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes and before Draco had the chance to properly prepare himself, let alone take a deep breath, Harry covered his mouth with his own and drew him into a passionate kiss.

He brought both arms around his waist and kissed him hotly and possessively and Draco couldn’t help but melt against Harry’s body.

The fact that Charlie was standing right in front of them didn’t bother Draco in the slightest. He was completely distracted by the soft feel of Harry’s lips moving against his own and the gentle way his tongue pried his own lips open only to slither right into his mouth and wreak havoc with his senses as he teasingly stroked the tip of his tongue against the side of Draco’s own tongue. A low but quite indecent moan escaped Draco’s throat and although Harry swallowed it, Draco couldn’t help but flush just a little.

A few minutes into the kiss, Charlie patted him on the back, just between his shoulder blades, and Draco suspected he must have done the same to Harry, who grudgingly broke away from the kiss and licked his lips.

“All right boys, before you strip each other naked and consummate your relationship on the floor, I now pronounce you husband and husband,” he said.

Harry grinned lopsidedly and Draco inhaled deeply. He made a half-hearted attempt at glaring at Charlie but since Harry’s deeply passionate and rather possessive grip had completely stunned him, it wasn’t a very menacing glower and Draco couldn’t bring himself to make more of an effort.

Soft bells sounded around the room and the DJ, who had paused the music playing in the background, announced that the ceremony was due to start in about five minutes. It cut off any opportunity for further silly banter between the three of them and Harry hastily pecked him on the cheek, squeezed his hip one more time and then excused himself to return to the podium.

Once again alone with Charlie, Draco followed his suggestion to find their allocated table and they headed to the first table on the left and found their nametags. Draco was rather pleased to be sitting next to Charlie with an empty chair next to him for Harry and as everyone else slowly took their seats, he silently admired the bouquet of flowers in the centre of the table: crocuses to promise to never abuse, peach roses to express admiration, appreciation and desire, buttercups to express a level of mature childishness that would bring happiness and joy to both Caleb and Stefan, orange blossoms to express faithfulness, bluebells to express humility, and small fern to express shelter and safety.

Draco rather liked the flower arrangement, though it didn’t manage to keep his attention for long. Instead, he glanced at the programme that lay on top of his dinner plate and he smiled. A black whip in the shape of a heart surrounded a beautiful quote by Stefan:

**“ _My heart, my life, my soul, He has the key to them all. He has but to open the lock and I will surrender to His warmth and love, yield to His word, submit to His touch._ ”**

Underneath that, on a hand-drawn cane, was a quote from Caleb:

**“ _Mine to love, mine to hurt, mine to treasure, mine to care for, mine to own, always._ ”**

Draco’s heart ached a little at those words, they resonated deeply with him, and looking up, he glanced at Harry, who had once again taken off his shoes and this time also his socks, and stood in the centre of the podium, right in front of the bondage bench, casually holding a Muggle voice amplifying device. Draco grappled for the correct noun for it but, too distracted by Harry’s warm gaze, now directed at him and only him, he came up empty.

Harry looked utterly divine in his black bespoke suit with a matching dark green silken shirt underneath. It complimented his complexion and especially his eyes wonderfully and ever since Harry had put the suit on, it had pushed all of Draco’s buttons at various times and to varying degrees.

The week before, after a bit of sassy back and forth banter, Harry had chosen his suit but had resolutely kept silent about his own choice of formal wear for the ceremony. Not even bugging Harry to the degree that Draco had earned himself a firm, but utterly enjoyable, spanking had resulted in Harry divulging any information about his outfit.

The memory of said conversation, and the spanking that had followed it, made Draco shift on his chair and he flushed a little when Harry chose exactly that moment to wink at him and mouth three words:

**_You. Are. Mine_ ** **.**

Somehow, Draco had no doubt about the fact that Harry knew exactly what he’d been thinking about — strangely enough Harry was perceptive like that and it repeatedly blew Draco’s mind.

His breath caught in his throat and he tried but failed to swallow past the lump that had settled there and insisted on getting bigger rather than slowly subsiding. Folding his hands in his lap, he coyly lowered his own gaze, knowing that Harry would understand his silent acquiescence better than anyone. Between the two of them, it had a different meaning.

He didn’t look up again until another chime of bells echoed through the function room and Harry cleared his throat and spoke up. His voice reverberated around the room and Draco felt a familiar sort of warmth wash over him at the sound of that deep husky and distinctive tone that could make him willingly agree to do things he hadn’t known he wanted and needed.

“Friends, if you could take your seats, we’re about to begin with the ceremony.”

Soft piano tunes filled the room and a few moments later, the lights dimmed.

Then, Caleb, dressed entirely in black but with bare feet, appeared in the doorway to the room.

In his left hand, he carried a square-shaped black box and in his right hand, he carried a coil of beige jute rope, a rattan cane, and a dark-red velvet bag.

He slowly and confidently walked over the red carpet, rose petals sticking to his feet with every step that he took, and as he came closer, Draco saw the bright smile on his face and a feeling of warmth and happiness spread through him. He could see the contentment and anticipation in Caleb’s eyes; there wasn’t even a hint of doubt. It was a look almost like the one Harry gave him whenever he promised that he would take care of him for as long as Draco let him.

_Forever please_ , he thought but instantly pushed his maudlin musings to the back of his mind and watched as Caleb stepped up onto the podium. He handed the box, the cane, the dark-red velvet bag, and the rope to Harry, who placed the items on the table behind the bondage bench and just as Draco thought Harry might speak, the music picked up and a hauntingly beautiful rendition of _Amazing Grace_ floated through the room.

At first, Draco thought it was recording but when he turned his head, he realised that it was Stefan who was singing. He stood on the red carpet, near the door, holding a Muggle voice amplifying device to his mouth and it truly irked Draco that he still couldn’t come up with the actual name for it. He was sure that he knew it but he resolutely stopped himself from getting too frustrated about it.

He hadn’t known that Stefan could sing but sing he could — he sounded so honest and full of emotions. His voice was stunningly beautiful. It tore at Draco’s heartstrings and as he glanced around the room, he noticed that a few ladies were discreetly dabbing their eyes with a handkerchief. Stefan hit every note perfectly, not even one was off key, too early, or too late.

Rather taken by the song, Draco only noticed towards the end what Stefan was wearing; a pair of pure-white slacks with a black belt and a deep-red button-up shirt with short sleeves. Like Caleb, he too was barefoot and when he finished the song, he handed the microphone — and just like that Draco suddenly recalled the name for the Muggle voice amplifying device — off to a friend and instead of walking down the red carpet, he gracefully dropped to his knees and crawled.

Once he reached the podium, he kneeled in front of Caleb, sat back on his haunches but kept his head obediently lowered and after a moment of silence, the lights came up a little and Harry spoke.

“Dear friends, welcome and thank you for making every effort to attend this very special day for our dear friends Sir Caleb Reid and his devoted pet Stefan Vallee. We’ve come together to celebrate their desire to make a lasting commitment to one another and they have chosen to do by means of a traditional handfasting ceremony, although I have been assured, several times in fact, that Sir Caleb and Stefan have added their own little kinky twist to the ritual.

“Before we begin, I would like to say a few things on behalf of and to both Sir Caleb and Stefan. As we all know, traditionally, to love, to honour and to obey used to be a common and significant vow in marriage ceremonies. However, over time society changed code and the desire to obey has diminished to the point that most deem it contemptible and thus the subservient word has become a controversial topic.

“I feel to love, to honour, and to obey are very appropriate vows for a D/s relationship and the commitment Sir Caleb and his submissive Stefan wish to make to each other today in front of us, their closest friends. So, in today's loving exchange of binding vows we will, therefore, reinstate the word as a crucial part of the ceremony for _to obey_ does not solely define the expected and obvious act of Stefan obeying his Sir and upholding the integrity of his submission but also Sir Caleb, as the Dominant, honouring his calling to uphold the standards of behaviour, ethics and morals of a good Dominant; and by extension the integrity of domination in its entirety.

“It is the couple's firm belief that while chains make for fun playtime, they do not hold a relationship together. Threads, however, hundreds of tiny threads, twisted together in an intricate knotting pattern of complex interwoven structures and experiences, do.

“Each thread represents a decision both Sir Caleb and his submissive Stefan made together over the past year, one that ultimately led them to this day and the strong desire to make a loving commitment to one another.”

As Harry paused and went to reach for the beige jute rope, Draco swallowed hard — there was something about Harry holding a coil of rope that hit Draco in all the right places all at once. As with his suit for the day, Harry hadn’t let him read his officiant speech prior to the ceremony and now that Draco heard him say the words, his heart fluttered and he couldn’t take his eyes off Harry, who caught him looking and smiled softly, then immediately turned his attention back to Caleb and Stefan.

“Before we begin, I would like to invite Sir Caleb to make his vow to his devoted pet Stefan, please.”

Caleb nodded and stepping forward, he dropped down onto one knee and cupped Stefan’s face gently in both hands. Harry lowered his microphone to ensure that it captured all of Caleb’s words.

“My sweet pet, my precious boy, from today on, these are the hands that are your best friend, strong and full of love for you and only you as I promise you to care for you and keep you safe, today, tomorrow and forever.

“These are the hands that will guide you, teach you, and protect you but also punish you, though never undeserved and never out of ill will or in anger.

“These are the hands that will passionately love and cherish you through the years, and with the slightest touch, will comfort you like no other.

“These are the hands you can turn to in times of need and reassurance.

“These are the hands that will give you strength when you need it the most. These are the hands that will always be reaching for yours, always giving you unspoken tenderness with just a touch.”

The lump in Draco’s throat increased tenfold and he found himself staring at Harry’s hands, casually wrapped around the handle of the microphone and he swallowed hard and blinked furiously, willing himself to keep it together — Caleb’s vow was his promise to Stefan not Harry’s promise to him and while his brain was able to make a clear distinction between the two, his heart refused to do the same and he sniffed, then flushed with embarrassment when Charlie wordlessly pushed a tissue into his hand.

Draco clenched his fingers around it and blinked again, then watched as Caleb gently kissed Stefan’s forehead and his lips, and rose to his feet again. As he did, Harry spoke again.

“Stefan, would you like to make you vow now?”

Stefan nodded and Draco noted that he was silently crying and had to take a moment to clear his throat before he was able to speak. He then shuffled forward and gently reached for Caleb’s hand.

Once again, Harry lowered his microphone and held it close to Stefan’s mouth to ensure that everyone would be able to hear his vow.

“Sir, when you first touched my hand, you reached my thoughts.

“And when you first kissed my lips, Sir, you reached my heart.

“When you first looked into my eyes, Sir, you touched my soul.

“You did not speak, we didn’t exchange a single thought, yet through that touch, Sir, you changed me, profoundly. With your kiss, you moved me and with your look, Sir, you brought me to life.

“It shall be my greatest honour and eternal pleasure to yield to your hands, Sir, to submit to your touch, to surrender to your kiss.

“Today, I pledge to you my thoughts and vow complete honesty, I pledge to you my heart and vow to love you with all I have. I pledge to you my soul and I pledge to you my body, Sir.”

As Stefan finished his vow, Draco held his breath to hold back a rather embarrassing sob and frowned. When exactly had he turned into such a softie? Not daring to look up at the podium and at Harry for fear he might crumble and succumb to his desire to be overly emotional, Draco reached for his champagne and took two or three very small sips, then took a deep breath and refocused.

He turned his attention back to the proceedings on the stage.

Stefan had let go of Caleb’s hands and resumed his previous position, kneeling with his buttocks resting on his haunches and his head submissively lowered. His hands rested on his thighs, palms facing up.

Harry handed Caleb the microphone and then, still holding the rope, took a small step back.

“My precious boy, you pledged me your body, now give it to me,” Caleb spoke softly but his voice held a certain level of authority.

Since it hadn’t been Harry’s words, they didn’t affect Draco but he still took pleasure in watching Stefan slowly undress. He unbuttoned his shirt, shrugged it off his shoulders, and taking it off completely, he folded it carefully and placed it on the floor beside him. Stefan then lifted his head, waited for Caleb’s nod, his approval to rise, and getting to his feet, he undid his white slacks and pushed those, along with his underwear off his hips. He stepped out of both items, folded them neatly and placed them on top of his shirt, then dropped back down onto his knees.

Draco admired Stefan’s guts to take off all his clothes in front of everyone in the room. He’d done it so casually as well and glancing at Caleb’s face, Draco noted that he was smiling and giving Stefan an appreciating once-over. Draco’s eyes drifted to Harry, who was looking straight ahead, a deliberate move to avoid looking at Stefan’s naked form. He handed the rope to Caleb and for a moment, Draco fervently wished Harry would keep it, would use it on him instead.

He temporarily suppressed his desire for Harry to tie him up and instead watched as Caleb folded the rope in half.

“My precious boy, do you willingly surrender yourself to me? If so, lift your hands so that I may bind them as a sign of your submission to me.”

“I do, Sir.”

Stefan spoke softly and he offered his hands to Caleb, who placed the rope around his wrists and almost effortlessly created an intricate pattern of knots as he wound the rope tightly around Stefan’s wrists and parts of his forearms, making it utterly impossible for him to move them apart.

In the meantime, Harry reached for the dark-red velvet bag and offered it to Caleb, who handed him the microphone in exchange. Harry held it up to his lips and Draco watched Caleb take a chastity device out of the bag. He held it in his hands, unlocked it expertly, then turned his attention to Stefan.

“My precious boy, your body is mine and so is the pleasure to touch it and the right to make you feel good. Do you accept this chastity cage as proof of you surrendering all control over your orgasms to me?”

“I do, Sir.”

Stefan’s soft-spoken response reverberated around Draco’s mind who stared at the chastity cage as though it was some form of torture device. He hadn’t liked it when he and Harry had visited _Pleasure_ to choose the gifts for Caleb’s and Stefan’s gift basket and he most definitely hadn’t liked it when Harry had convinced him to try it before he made up his mind.

Wearing it hadn’t felt so bad and after keeping him in it for about two hours, Harry had taken it off again and teased him until he’d come all over himself with the incomprehensible force of a mind-blowing orgasm. Later, when he’d come down from his high and Harry had asked him if he ever wanted to wear it again, he’d resolutely refused, stating that he could be good and didn’t need to have his cock in a cage. Harry had, of course, chuckled at that and told him that there was a neat little spell that worked much the same way. It prevented him from having an erection until Harry took it off and for some strange reason, the idea of a spell hadn’t sounded as bad as the idea of wearing a cock cage.

Harry, devious and sly as always, had at once told him that he wasn’t a fan of the spell since he preferred knowing Draco was hard but unable to do anything about it unless he wanted to earn himself a punishment. Weirdly enough, the idea of that had thoroughly aroused Draco and for quite some time that had been the end of their conversation as they indulged in yet more play that had left Draco blissfully drifting for hours afterwards.

Draco snapped out of his thoughts and looking over at the small stage, he watched as Caleb dropped down onto one knee and fastened the cock cage around Stefan’s cock, then locked it and pocketed the key.

He took a step back and accepted the cane from Harry.

“My precious boy, to pledge your obedience to me, will you accept three strikes with this cane?”

Stefan nodded.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Then place yourself on the bondage bench and present yourself to me.”

Stefan shuffled over to the bench and Draco couldn’t help but admire the skilful way with which he moved, even though his wrists were tightly bound. He placed his knees on the patted leather cushion, then, still kneeling, rested his torso on the second, slightly raised, leather cushion. His bound arms surrounded his face and as Caleb stepped into position, Harry moved into the background.

Draco swallowed a little and watched with mild trepidation as Caleb adjusted his grip on the cane, then lifted his hand slightly and brought the cane down on Stefan’s bare buttocks. Draco’s eyes naturally drifted to Stefan’s face and he was surprised to find him with his eyes closed and a most serene expression on his face, which didn’t change with the second or the third strike and despite the fact that Draco could clearly identify three thick deep red welts appearing on Stefan’s arse.

He caught Harry’s eyes and frowned a little but knowing that he couldn’t very well ask him, Draco gently tapped Charlie’s arm and once he turned to face him, he whispered his question.

“That must have hurt, yet he didn’t bat an eyelid. Why?”

Charlie smiled.

“He likes it, very much. It’ll take more than three strikes with a cane for a masochistic painslut like Stefan to scream and cry.”

Draco shuddered a little. He did like the idea of a bit of pain and over the past year he’d grown to enjoy it more than he ever thought he would but he still couldn’t imagine liking it as much as Stefan did.

Thankfully, Harry knew where the limits of his tolerance were and he never pushed the boundaries too far. Sometimes the pain was a little intense but Harry always, and without fail, managed to turn it into a pleasurable experience that left Draco wanting more.

He smiled softly to himself and watched with fondness as Caleb handed the cane back to Harry and gently caressed Stefan’s face, then kissed his lips softly. He’d never seen them be quite this affectionate in public and it made Draco’s heart flutter just a little. The perfect balance of firmness and tenderness reminded him of how Harry treated him and he silently observed as Caleb helped Stefan off the bondage bench.

Stefan resumed kneeling in front of Caleb who took the red velvet back from Harry and retrieved a candle and a box of matches.

Draco shuddered a little and when Charlie quietly placed his large calloused hand on his clothed forearm and squeezed a little, he relaxed at once, then watched with curiosity as Caleb lid the candle and handed it to Harry, who wrapped both hands around it. It was a thick pure-white pillar candle and while it burned, Caleb once again dropped down onto one knee, kissed Stefan, then guided him to extended his bound hands but keep his head lowered.

Harry explained to everyone that Caleb intended to seal their handfasting vow with wax and carefully handed the candle to Caleb, who waited another few moments, then gently tipped it over and slowly dripped the hot wax all over Stefan’s bound arms. Most of the melted wax seeped into the jute rope and Caleb slowly and unhurriedly continued to cover Stefan’s ropes in white melted wax.

The more time he took, the more intrigued Draco got and even though Stefan kept his head lowered, he could tell that he wasn’t in any sort of pain or afraid. Draco leant back in his chair and stared, transfixed, as drop after drop of wax fused with the intricate knotting pattern Caleb had created earlier and once, he’d used up about a third of the candle, Caleb stopped. He extinguished the flame and handing the candle back to Harry, he took the square-shaped black box from him instead.

He opened it and revealed a beautiful stainless-steel collar, a thin round band that gleamed and twinkled in the light. A small sapphire sparkled at the centre and stepping forward, he pushed a single finger underneath Stefan’s chin and lifted it up.

Stefan’s eyes almost instantly settled on the collar and he let out an audible gasp, then inhaled deeply and pursed his lips together as several tears escaped over the rim of his eyes and ran down his cheeks.

“Don’t cry, my precious boy,” Caleb spoke softly, the words only audible because Harry held the microphone to his mouth.

“Stefan,” he spoke again, this time quite solemn, “with the placing of this collar around your neck and your acceptance of it, I vow to do everything I can to be worthy of you. I promise to hold you and keep you safe, to stretch you and give you flight, to respect the needs of our relationship above all others, to love you, honour you, support you in all things and be sensitive to your needs and desires. I acknowledge the trust you have placed in me and the responsibility that goes with my acceptance of that trust. I will never violate or even threaten to violate that trust. I acknowledge and accept with all my heart the gift of submission you have made to me. This collar will be a symbol of that which we already know: that you are mine, and by wearing it you will always be safe and free to be everything that you are. Do you accept my gift to you, Stefan?”

“Yes, Sir, I do.”

Stefan’s voice quivered as he spoke and he blinked furiously as Caleb tenderly placed the collar around his neck and locked it in place, then gently helped Stefan to his feet and wrapped him in a tight embrace. Draco was suddenly rather glad for the tissue, Charlie had handed him earlier, and lowering his head, he dabbed his eyes, then made the mistake of looking up and straight into Harry’s eyes.

The intensity of Harry’s gaze caught him off-guard and momentarily forgetting how to breathe, Draco looked up at him, unable to take his eyes off him for even just a second. His lungs started protesting and he grudgingly inhaled just as Harry raised the microphone to his lips and asked everyone to raise their champagne flutes in a toast to the happy couple.

Everyone in attendance got to their feet and a resounding “ _to Caleb and Stefan_ ” echoed through the room before glasses clinked and everyone drank and then clapped.

Harry silently handed Caleb a midnight-blue bathrobe, which he gently draped around Stefan’s shoulders, before leading him off the small stage and into one of the side rooms. Once they had left, Harry announced that they would return shortly to join them for more drinks, celebratory speeches, and dinner as well as the cutting of a very kinky cake, then stepped off the stage himself and handed the microphone back to the DJ.

He approached Draco and wordlessly pulled him into a hug and kissed his cheek tenderly.

“I needed that,” Draco whispered.

“I thought you might.”

Harry smiled and took his hand. He squeezed it gently, then sat down in the empty chair beside him and pulled him down, a silent invitation to sit in his lap which Draco willingly accepted.

“Did my big brother take good care of you?”

“You did tell him to keep an eye on me, I knew it.”

Before Harry could respond, Charlie cut in.

“He didn’t. I offered before he could.”

Draco smiled and wrapped arms around Harry’s shoulders, then kissed his cheek.

“I wish I had a brother like you,” he admitted quietly and closed his eyes as Harry wrapped his arms so tightly around his waist it hurt.

“You have, Draco, you have. Since Harry met you, he’s the happiest I’ve ever seen him and since he most definitely is my little brother, you are too.”

Draco swallowed hard and buried his face in Harry’s neck.

“Tell him to stop saying these things, I will cry.”

“Aw, that’s all right, my sweet little prince. I’ll be right here to kiss away all the tears,” Harry whispered.

Draco felt him gently rub the palm of his hand up and down his back and letting out a shaky breath, he decided that he didn’t care enough about proper decorum to stop the tears that threatened to spill and instead let them soak into Harry’s neck and the collar of his shirt.

* * *

* * *

Harry watched with great affection as Draco threw his head back and laughed. It was loud and unrestrained laughter, completely carefree, and Harry’s heart thumped wildly in his chest.

Draco brought his hands up to his face and wiped tears of joy from the corners of his eyes, then continued laughing and doubling over, he clutched at his belly and gasped for air. His legs gave in and he sank to his knees in the middle of Harry’s living room, still laughing happily.

Harry couldn’t help but chuckle and stepping closer, he was about to help Draco back onto his feet when he found himself dragged to the floor. Draco’s unexpected attack on his legs cost him his balance and he tumbled to the ground with a yelp, then found himself flat on his back with Draco straddling his hips and bracing himself on his shoulders.

It was nearly four am in the morning and Harry couldn’t remember what he’d said that had resulted in Draco’s mad laughing fit. It didn’t help that they were both slightly inebriated and had spent most of the latter part of the night on their feet dancing the night away.

Caleb’s and Stefan’s collaring ceremony had been a complete success, the speeches had been hilarious, dinner had been scrumptious and the naughty collar-shaped cake had been a delicious — although watching Caleb giving Stefan his first post-ceremony spanking had been even better.

Somehow, while getting ready to cut the cake together, Stefan had managed to place his hand on top of Caleb’s and unwilling to let Stefan’s cheek go, Caleb had gently eased Stefan over the side of the table before smacking his arse once but firmly. It had been all good fun and nothing serious but it had been decidedly hot to watch, especially because Stefan could be a proper comedian when he wanted to be and had purposefully distorted his face to fake pain, which of course had earned him another smack.

Eventually, though, they’d cut the cake and as the evening had progressed, the catering team had moved the tables out of the way and the DJ had provided plenty of good music to keep everybody entertained until late into the night.

What with everyone on a high from the beauty of the actual ceremony, drinks had flown freely and Draco had quite literally, and repeatedly, insisted on dancing the night away. Unable and quite unwilling to refuse him, Harry had spent hours whirling him around the dance floor and had continued to satisfy Draco’s desire to go completely crazy after they’d Apparated back to Grimmauld Place.

They’d indulged in some heavy snogging in-between and while Draco had somehow managed to unbuttoned half of Harry’s shirt, he himself was topless and it was decidedly distracting. Draco’s laughter died down a little and not quite able to properly brace himself on Harry’s shoulders, he slumped down and gave Harry a wet sloppy kiss.

“I fucking love you, Harry James Potter!”

Draco’s slightly slurred declaration of love made Harry smile and wrapping his arms around Draco’s neck and locking his fingers together, he held him close, then expertly, though with decidedly less finesse than usual, flipped him over. They rolled around and Draco ended up on his back while Harry sat astride his hips, sought out his hands and pinned his wrists to the carpet beneath.

“You’re drunk, Draco Malfoy,” he said.

Draco nodded.

“I absolutely am. Doesn’t change the facts though. I still love you.”

Harry chuckled.

“Well, that’s good to know.”

“Kiss me, Potter, you sex god of my loins.”

Harry burst out laughing.

“Sex god of your loins?”

Draco nodded, then more laughter bubbled out of his mouth and he descended into another fit of giggles that was entirely too infectious for Harry to resist the temptation of joining in.

They laughed and kissed and laughed some more for the next half an hour or so. It was then that Harry finally managed to concentrate for long enough to draw his wand and summon two phials of Sober-Up from his master bathroom. He didn’t dare attempt wandless magic, in his current more than slightly drunk state it was bound to end with the entire house coming down on them rather than two potion phials floating through the air and into his hands.

He caught both phials with ease and still sitting astride Draco’s hips, he straightened up and downed the contents of one phial before shuffling back to sit on top of Draco’s thighs and helping him into an upright position. He uncorked the phial and since Draco’s hand-to-mouth coordination was rather questionable, he fed him the potion.

It took a quarter of an hour for the effects to fully kick in and while they waited, Harry rolled off Draco and lay down on his back beside him. Draco’s hand found his own and squeezed gently. They lay staring at the ceiling, then into each other’s eyes but didn’t speak.

Draco smiled softly and once potion had taken full effect, he rolled onto his side, moved his free hand, and placed it on top of Harry’s heart.

“I really do love you; you know?” he whispered.

Harry swallowed and brought one arm around Draco to hug him.

“I know,” he whispered back. “I love you too.”

“I want to be yours.”

Harry smiled.

“You are mine, my little prince.”

Draco looked at him, long and hard and despite still feeling a little bit foggy, he could tell that there was something else on Draco’s mind. Given the day they’d had and the fact that it was nearly morning, Harry decided not to push and instead suggested a shower, a proposition Draco fully supported.

Since the potion had burned away most of the alcohol in their bloodstream, getting back on their feet wasn’t nearly as difficult as it would have been about half an hour ago and with his hand still tightly clasped around Draco’s, Harry led him upstairs and into his bedroom.

Draco quietly stripped and using his wand to start the shower, Harry tugged Draco into the bathroom and into the spacious shower room. The moment they were inside, Harry pulled him close, wrapped his arms around Draco’s gloriously naked body and kissed him underneath the cascading stream of hot water.

He let his hands roam over every inch of Draco’s body that he could reach and when his fingertips slipped into the crack between his buttocks, Draco moaned into their kiss and Harry felt him grow hard against his thigh while his own erection pressed into Draco’s lower abdomen. He pulled away from the kiss, pushed Draco back against the tiles and pining his arms to the wet wall above his head, he stared at him and smiled softly.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he whispered, licking some of the water off his lips.

He watched as Draco swallowed hard and while his cheeks were already a little flushed from the hot water, they pinked even further at the unexpected compliment.

“I want to own you, Draco Malfoy. I want you to be mine, always.”

Draco swallowed hard and nodded.

“Please,” he simply said.

Harry let out a low growl and lunging forward, he kissed Draco hard. It was a bruising and possessive kiss and once he was breathless, he broke away and simply spun Draco around, pressed his torso against the cool tiles and bit his shoulder, sinking his teeth right into the pale wet flesh. He sucked with the very intention of not only leaving his teeth marks behind but also a deep purple bruise, Draco would be able to admire later and for quite a few days to come.

Draco groaned and pushed back against his groin, rubbing the crack between his buttocks against Harry’s hard cock.

Harry hummed in approval and tightening his hold on Draco’s wrists, he squeezed until Draco moaned, then loosened his grip and laced his fingers through Draco’s, linking them together.

“Mine,” he growled against Draco’s wet skin, kissing the bruise he’d just made.

“Yours,” Draco panted out, his cheek resting against one of the tiles.

“Mine, mine, mine.”

“Yes, yes, yes.”

Unwilling to control the urge to possess Draco, to truly own him, Harry sank his teeth into Draco’s neck, biting just as hard, if not harder, than before, and sucking.

Draco let out a loud, long, piercing cry that echoed around the shower room and reverberated through the bathroom, then tilted his head to the side to give Harry better access.

Harry soothed the bite with a few kisses, then twisted his fingers into Draco’s hair and pulled his head back just far enough to be able to kiss Draco’s mouth. He claimed it in a proprietorial kiss, plunging his tongue deep into the hot wet cavern that was Draco’s deliciously sweet mouth.

They kissed until Harry’s lungs protested greatly and pulling away, he took a few moments to inhale and exhale, then decided a gentler approach and reaching for the bottle of shampoo, he began to wash Draco’s hair, softly, tenderly, lovingly.

He massaged his scalp for a solid ten minutes and Draco melted into a pile of goo beneath his fingers, then held perfectly still as Harry washed the soapy foam out of his hair. It ran down his body and disappeared into the drain and once Harry finished, Draco slowly opened his eyes and blinked.

“Please, let me—”

He breathed the words softly, his silvery-grey eyes pleading for Harry to allow him to return the favour.

Harry smiled and nodded, then closed his eyes and allowed Draco to wash his hair too. It felt all sorts of wonderful and Harry felt his entire body relax underneath Draco’s skilled fingers.

With their hair clean, shampoo-free, and wet, Harry took over again and lathered Draco’s entire body up with a frothy white mass of soapy citrusy-smelling bubbles, then washed every inch of him. He wrapped his fingers around Draco’s hard cock and stroked it expertly while Draco looked straight at him, never breaking his gaze.

At some point, Draco’s mouth fell open and his breathing grew laboured and he dug his fingernails into Harry’s shoulders.

“Harry, I’m— I will— I’m— oh fuck— Harry, please—”

“Hm, no, a little while longer, for me. Hold on, be a good boy now, be my good boy.”

Harry enticed him to hold off giving in to the urge to succumb to his orgasm and Draco nodded weakly, licked his lips, and panted. His eyelids fluttered closed, then opened again and he let out a low moan when Harry ran his thumb around the sensitive head, then stroked him harder, faster.

Draco ground his teeth together, moaned and Harry felt his knees buckle with the effort it took him to remain upright and keep his orgasm from taking over.

“Please, Harry, please,” Draco begged.

Harry shook his head.

“No, you can do this, you can hold back for me. You’re my good little prince.”

“I— Harry— Please—”

Draco broke off and swallowed hard, then let out a loud long moan. His knees buckled again and Harry pushed him back against the tiles, giving him more leverage to support himself. Draco’s eyes fluttered open and he stared at him, eyes wide open, lips parted, face flushed.

“Please—”

He begged again but Harry still shook his head and slowed his strokes.

“Don’t— Not yet.”

He merely whispered the request, then leant in and kissed Draco hard, claiming his open mouth in a hot, wet kiss.

Draco groaned and Harry could feel that his legs threatened to give away. He steadied him, then pulled away from the kiss and stopped touching Draco’s cock. Before Draco could complain, before he could even groan in disapproval, Harry pressed the palm of his hand to Draco’s mouth and gagged him.

“Turn around, my little prince, put your hands on the tiles, don’t make a sound.”

Draco’s eyes widened at the immediate realisation of what Harry had in mind and with a devious smile, Harry reached for the bottle of lube, he always kept in the shower. He flicked the lid off, poured a generous amount into his hand and coated his cock with it, then poured even more lube into his hand and spread it around Draco’s hole. He worked plenty of lube into him, then positioned himself and pulling Draco’s arse cheeks apart, he pushed into him, filling his hole with his thick hard cock.

He groaned at the tightness and Draco groaned at the burn and reaching for Draco’s arms, Harry folded them behind Draco’ back, restrained them there with one hand, and then grabbed Draco’s bruised shoulder with his other. He forced Draco to bend over, then pulled back and slammed into him, fucking into him with a steady rhythm, while the hot water of the shower still cascaded down his back.

Unable to move, Draco could only take it and take it he did so beautifully that Harry’s heart clenched and unclenched, then thumped wildly in his chest as he built up speed, needing to make sure Draco would still felt his cock inside of him once they’d slept for a couple of hours.

Draco moaned and panted and Harry continued to slam into him until he could feel his orgasm take over. He let it wash over him and thrusting deep into Draco, he filled him with his come, then, remaining sheathed inside him, he wrapped his fingers around Draco’s cock and stroked it, hard, fast, working Draco right back to the very edge, inches before the point of no return, where he held him for an agonising ten minutes before he allowed him to tip over and revel in the sensations of his own orgasm.

It was sometime around the second time Draco’s cock jerked in in his hand, spurting thick ropes of hot white stickiness, that his legs finally gave in and he slid to his knees, causing Harry to slide out of him. He followed Draco down and crouching in front of the pliable pile of goo he’d transformed Draco into, he cupped his cheeks tenderly and kissed him slowly, lovingly.

Harry gently washed off the evidence of their impromptu lovemaking, then switched the shower off and then gingerly stepped out of the shower room. Draco, still somewhat breathless, leant back against the marble counter beside the sink and smiled goofily.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Potter.”

Harry smiled.

“I’ll make you go out on a high, I promise.”

Draco scoffed but didn’t object to Harry drying him off before, quite obediently, following him into the bedroom, where they curled up underneath the covers, naked as the day they’d been born.

Glancing at the alarm clock on his nightstand, Harry realised that it was well after five o’clock in the morning and chuckling into Draco’s arm, he looked at him and smiled affectionately.

“Might as well just stay up, have coffee and some food, then go to bed and sleep all day.”

Draco grinned and laced their fingers together.

“If only neither of us had to get up to make the coffee or the food, I’d sanction the idea as brilliant.”

“Hm, if you want to avoid getting up, I could also eat your arse while you drink my come. Not as nutritious as good breakfast and there definitely wouldn’t be any caffeine but it does sound enticing.”

Draco rolled his eyes.

“Crude.”

Harry chuckled softly.

“Are you objecting to having your arse eaten?”

Draco shook his head, then looked utterly appalled.

“I’d be insane to object to that but you’re still crude.”

Harry laughed louder and harder.

“Hm, how about this, I’ll turn you on your front, pull your arse cheeks apart and gently and repeatedly swipe my tongue over your fluttering little hole before giving you the fingerfuck of your life that’ll have you come all over my sheets and when you’re panting, breathless from the wild ride, I’ll offer you my cock as a pacifier and you can suckle it until I fill your sweet little mouth with my come, then kiss you as it slides down your throat and coats your vocal chords.”

Draco groaned and shifted around.

“I know what you’re trying to do. You’re going to give me a fucking hard on and then you’re going to decide it’s time for your beauty sleep.”

“Oh, my sweet little prince, I would never be this cruel.”

Draco looked entirely unconvinced and Harry kissed him, slowly, lovingly, affectionately.

At first, Draco remained passive, then he slowly surrendered and returned the kiss and as he did, Harry pushed him onto his back and rolled on top of him. He laced their fingers together, pulled them above Draco’s head and pressed them down into the mattress, then rolled his hips, teasingly arousing Draco again.

Less than twenty minutes later they were both hard and kicking the duvet away, Harry pushed his hand underneath one of the pillows and retrieved the lube. It was nice and warm and he squirted a generous amount of it onto his hand, then worked it into Draco’s still loose hole, slowly fucking him with two of his fingers.

Draco moved his head, exposed his throat and Harry covered it with tiny nips and little kisses.

“I can’t get enough of you, my beautiful sweet little prince,” he whispered.

Draco whimpered and when Harry told him to spread his legs wide, he obeyed without hesitation. Harry pressed his thighs further down into the mattress, creating a delicious burning sensation that resulted in Draco’s eyes flying open and him staring up at him with dark, smouldering eyes.

“Please, Sir, fuck me, I need you,” he begged.

“Patience, my little prince, you just had me.”

Harry smiled and captured Draco’s mouth in a slow kiss.

“Please, please, please,” Draco whispered once he pulled away from the kiss.

Harry pushed his fingers back into him and rubbed against his prostate, stimulating it until Draco climaxed without losing his erection.

He whimpered and moaned in breathless ecstasy and Harry did it a few more times and each time Draco came for him, experiencing wave after wave of an incredibly high. Harry praised him, quietly, sweetly, keeping him in a permanent state of arousal, despite repeatedly allowing him to float in the aftermath of several incredible prostate orgasms.

By the time Harry pushed into him for the second time that morning, Draco’s prostate was so sensitive that he moaned and nearly came from the sensations of feeling Harry’s cock penetrate him alone. Harry kissed him, slowly, tenderly and his thrusts were equally as lazy.

Compared to what has transpired in the shower, where he’d roughly taken Draco and claimed him as his, this time he made love to Draco, sweet, sweet slow-burning love.

Draco’s hands remained above his head, twisted into the edges of the pillow covers and for the longest time his eyes were closed and he lay with his legs spread open, willingly offering himself to Harry for the taking but at some point, he opened his eyes and locked them directly onto Harry’s.

Harry smiled down at him and caressed his cheek.

“Harry—”

Draco breathed his name.

“Hm?”

Harry hummed in response.

“I want to try it, Harry, please.”

“Try what?”

“Wax.”

“Hm, okay,” Harry replied, half-delirious from their prolonged love-making though less than a second after he’d agreed to Draco’s request, the fog in his brain cleared and he focused on Draco.

Unwilling to deny him while they were this intimate with one another, he simply brushed a strand of Draco’s wet hair out of his face, kissed him softly, and smiled warmly.

“Let’s talk about it properly after we’ve had some sleep, okay?”

“Hm.”

Draco nodded, strangely pliable and utterly agreeable this late into the night, or early in the morning, whichever way one looked at it and for now, that was the last they said on the topic, mainly because Harry kissed Draco again but also because they were both relatively close to their respective orgasms and chatting about anything was the last thing on both their minds.

They climaxed a short while after, Draco first and Harry a few thrusts later. He remained sheathed inside Draco until his cock was completely soft, then slowly pulled out and followed up with a half-arsed cleaning charm. They promptly fell asleep in each other’s arms with Harry hugging Draco tightly with his arms and legs and Draco curled into Harry’s embrace as though it was the safest place to hide.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A ["BDSM Collaring Ceremony"](https://www.eternitycollars.com/blog/ceremony-ideas-your-official-collaring)  
> isn't something I've made up but it actually exists and it's truly the most beautiful thing to witness. It's magical and intense and just the idea of a person giving themselves to another person so completely and the other person accepting that offer, that gift, well, I can't think if anything that's more special.
> 
> To me, it means so much more than a wedding, it's got more depth, more power, and a unique kind of beauty. Finally, and if you're interested, I'd like to offer you an article about the ["Ceremony of Roses"](https://houseofeadarainn.webs.com/ceremonyoftheroses.htm)  
> \- it explains it in more depth and detail and while Caleb and Stefan didn't exactly choose it, there are elements of it in their collaring ceremony. On another personal note, roses are my favourite flowers and I would absolutely go for this kind of ceremony.


	68. Hold A Candle To Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About to leave for the airport but since I’d already uploaded this chapter, I leave it here for you to enjoy. In Chinese we wish travellers 一路平安 (yīlù-píng'ān) which means “Have a good trip” or “Bon voyage” as the French say, however, when someone travels by airplane you generally say 一路顺风 (yīlùshùnfēng) but translated more into “May you peacefully travel with the wind”, which is beautiful, if you think about it (and it also makes no sense since an airplane can't take off with the wind but I guess the idiom doesn't consider physics). OK, this concludes your Chinese lesson for the day.
> 
> P.S. The Roman letters are merely the pronunciation of the Chinese characters (and they are used as input on the computer or phone) with the tones above the vowels (long and straight, falling, rising and fall/rise), they cannot replace the characters. A sentence written solely in Pinyin would be very difficult to decipher since many characters have similar pronunciations but look entirely different.
> 
>  
> 
> Alright, since I took to my soapbox in the last chapter's Author's Notes, I'll keep this one brief.
> 
> We haven't had a good and honest talk in a while, have we? I think it's about high tide we wrap up some things, especially considering the request Draco made at the end of the last chapter.
> 
> Enjoy.
> 
> Love,  
> Selly x

* * *

Several days passed, mostly occupied by work commitments, until Harry finally found the time to sit Draco down for a lengthy conversation about his request to try wax play.

It was a late Saturday afternoon and they were both at Grimmauld Place; feeling decidedly disinclined to leave the house and socialise with anyone but each other — quality time together was all Draco had asked for and Harry was all too happy to grant him his wish. They’d spent the morning relaxing in bed, chatting about the past week and things that had happened at work and in their lives. That had inevitably turned into some serious snogging which had ended with some rather kinky sex since Harry wasn’t especially fond of keeping his hands away from Draco when he didn’t absolutely have to.

Sometime after a long nap, they’d eventually made it downstairs and into the kitchen to have coffee and a lazy brunch which had ended with a rather sizzling hour of kissing on the comfortable sofa in Harry’s living room.

The weather outside was truly wretched and while it wasn’t cold as such, it hadn’t stopped raining since the previous evening.

It was a typical British late spring afternoon; miserable, rainy, and wet.

Somehow, after watching a silly comedy on television, Draco had managed to trick Harry into agreeing to a game of Wizarding Chess, although why in Godric Gryffindor’s name Harry had allowed Draco to gain the upper hand in that discussion, he didn’t know.

Well, he did, though he was loath to admit that Draco unscrupulously, and with the slyest Slytherin smirk Harry had ever seen, questioning his male pride had rather gotten to him. He’d fought it for a while, had even suggested a game of Exploding Snap instead, however, when Draco had asked him whether he was scared, he’d finally capitulated.

The way Draco had put emphasis on his last name at the end of that question had instantly persuaded Harry to venture into the dragon’s lair. He had, of course, jokingly threatened with a firm spanking to silence Draco’s sass but that had only encouraged him. Draco had quite provocatively and outright told him to go ahead and although highly tempted to put Draco across his knee and turn his arse a lovely shade of red, he’d resisted the urge, knowing it was exactly what Draco wanted and not giving him what he wanted gave him the upper hand.

They’d played three games of chess and naturally, Harry had lost all of them though not intentionally so. Still, no matter how long he thought about each move, he simply hadn’t been able to best Draco and although Harry was rather miffed over his epic and repeated loss, he couldn’t help but delight in Draco’s exquisitely good mood.

He was in extremely gleeful about his win and deciding to use Draco’s cheery disposition to his advantage, Harry had requested a ridiculous number of kisses to soothe his apparently bruised ego.

Draco had been only too happy to supply him with plenty of those, and now that Harry had plied him with sweet tea and mouth-watering home-baked chocolate chip biscuits from the Burrow, he felt confident that bringing up the topic of wax play wouldn’t result in a rapid decrease in Draco’s deep feeling of satisfaction over having wiped his arse on the chessboard.

Harry waited until Draco had safely put his half-empty mug of tea down on top of a coaster on the coffee table, then reached out and pulled him right into his arms.

Draco willingly fell back, lifted his sockless feet up onto the sofa and rolling onto his back, he comfortably rested his head in Harry’s lap and looked up at him with a beaming grin.

“I do like the fact that you’re so mature about your loss. I must admit, I wouldn’t be able to,” he said.

Harry smiled down at him and running his fingers through Draco’s loose silky hair, he massaged Draco’s temples.

Draco hummed approvingly and his eyes momentarily fluttered closed. He laced his fingers together and rested them low on his stomach, just inches above the loose pair of trousers, he’d managed to put on sometime between brunch and lounging about the living room, watching a silly comedy.

Harry ran the tip of his index finger from Draco’s forehead down over the ridge of his nose, over his pale pink lips, his jaw, his throat, and finally the centre of his chest and his stomach. He let his hand rest on top of Draco’s and squeezed lightly.

In response to that, Draco slowly opened his eyes, blinked once or twice, then smiled like a cat that had gotten the cream. Harry’s chest instantly filled with a warm kind of fuzziness he only ever felt when he was around Draco and leaning down, he placed a gentle but lingering kiss on his lips.

“There’s something I’d like us to talk about,” he said.

His voice was soft and warm and Draco responded with an affirmative nod.

“Go for it,” he said.

Harry allowed his free hand to return to Draco’s hair and as he gently combed his fingers through it, he relished in the softness of the fine strands of light hair tickling the palm of his hand. Draco let his eyes fall closed again. Somehow, it had really become his kink and given the look of unadulterated bliss on Draco’s face, Harry highly suspected that Draco enjoyed being on the receiving end of the tender caress as much as Harry enjoyed lavishing him with that sort of affection.

“A few days ago, the morning after the ceremony, when we made love in bed, do you still remember what you asked me for?”

Draco’s gradually opened his eyes, blinked slowly and stretching a little, he hummed.

“I do,” he said.

“Are you absolutely sure about wanting to try wax play?”

Shuffling a little, Draco shook his head.

“No, I’m not. I’m bloody terrified, Harry.”

“But you still want to try it?”

Draco’s cheeks flushed a pale shade of pink and he nodded, then exhaled softly and Harry ran his fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp.

“Will you tell me what brought this on, my love?”

“Do you have any idea how much I trust you, Harry?”

Draco whispered the question into the quiet of the room, his voice low, soft, and gentle, almost like the song-song of a bird rather than his usual upper-class drawl.

Harry smiled and nodded.

“I've got a pretty good idea,” he said. “I’d still like to hear it from you, though.”

“You know, Harry, I always trusted you. Even back when I wasn’t ready to admit that to myself and as you and I both know quite well; at Hogwarts, I wasn’t interested in showing that sort of maturity. Thankfully, I managed to get over that idiotic arrogance and I’m grateful that I did. This last year with you, Harry, it’s been terrifyingly beautiful. I’m hopelessly addicted to the way you make me want to let myself fall. You always make sure I hit the ground running and that sort of feeling is intoxicating and exhilarating. I once put my life in your hands, mainly because I didn’t have a choice, but now I’d do it again and in a heartbeat. Letting you take control has been the most mind-blowing experience I’ve ever had.”

Draco paused for a moment and Harry watched him swallow and then clear his throat and shuffle about a little. Although he had several things to say, Harry remained silent, choosing to listen instead of interrupting Draco’s train of thoughts and everything he wanted to get off his chest.

This was his moment and Harry wanted him to know that he could be entirely honest, that he could speak his mind and tell him anything. He would never silence Draco, not when they were communicating and continuing to strengthen the foundation of their relationship, their partnership. This moment, and any other honest conversation they’d had before felt as intimate as when they played together. It felt as intimate as when they made love together and connected on a physical level. Harry was immensely proud of their deep emotional connection and their unspoken no-secrets-policy.

“I feel like I’m still learning what submission means, but if there’s one thing I can now say with absolute confidence then it’s that I need you to dominate me though as you know I’ve known that for a while. I want that incredible rush only you can give me, the thrill of letting go. I want it so bad that I sometimes scare myself with those thoughts, but I don’t want to let the fear of a new experience rule my life. I’ve been there and I’ve done that but I’ve also learnt that letting go restores balance in my life and that was before we reconnected. Since we got together, I learnt to let go in a different way. The freedom you give me, the safety net you provide; it makes me want to be bold, it makes me want to push my own boundaries and test my limits in ways I couldn’t possibly explain. But I can’t do it alone. I need you to guide me, I need you to take control and take charge of this, of me.”

Draco fell silent and Harry took his hand, laced their fingers together and smiled softly.

“That I can do for you,” he said as a tentative plan began to form in his head. “Tell me though, why wax play? Why not more pain? Or a more intense form of submission? There are so many ways in which I could push your boundaries and test your limits.”

“I can’t quite put my finger on it, Harry, but I think it’s the passion with which you talked about it at the shop. I was completely horrified of the idea at first but you have this uncanny ability to make me feel calm and it got me thinking and once I started, I couldn’t stop. And before you ask whether I want to do this for you, I don’t. I want to do this for me, with you.”

Harry chuckled.

“You know me too well; I was indeed just about to ask whether you want to do this for me because I told you that it’s something I like.”

“It’s no use lying to you, Potter, you can always tell.”

“Hm, I can. The benefit of being attentive. Tell me, when did your curiosity become desire?”

Draco smiled.

“I think you know.”

“The wax seal over Stefan’s ropes at the collaring ceremony?” Harry asked.

Draco nodded.

“Yes. It was— It felt— I—”

“Intense,” Harry said, offering the word he thought Draco might be looking for.

He rather liked the way Draco could express himself so eloquently one moment and then the next, he lost all nerve and stammered his way through his thoughts or entirely lost his ability to string several words together to form a coherent sentence.

“I don’t know if it’s because the entire ceremony was so emotionally charged but when I watched that melted wax drip down onto Stefan’s restraints, well, I made my mind up. I hadn’t planned to spring it on you like that, but it just slipped out.”

Harry smiled.

“An endearing habit of yours, my love. You tend to ask for things while we’re intimate with each other and if I may hazard a guess, it’s because you feel relaxed and safe. Voicing your deepest desires becomes easier when worry doesn’t factor into the equation.”

“Perhaps. Although, you do have a way of getting it out of me anyway. Then again, I’m not doing such a bad job sharing my desires today, aren’t I?”

“No, you’re not. You’re being rather good about being honest with me. I like it a lot; it helps me to work out how to go about trying this with you since I do have my concerns.”

“What concerns?” Draco asked with a mild frown.

Harry squeezed his hand gently, wanting to reassure.

“Well, for starters, there’s your pyrophobia. That absolutely is my biggest worry.”

Draco sighed. He shuffled and stretched his legs out over the sofa’s armrest.

“I’m not scared of a burning candle, Harry. I can handle it. Open fire too, like a fireplace. It doesn’t bother me anymore; I did the whole emersion therapy and everything that comes with it. What scares me to death is anything that reminds me of Fiendfyre.”

Harry smiled. He ran his fingers through Draco’s hair, then leant down and placed a tender kiss on Draco’s lips, lingering for a few seconds before pulling away.

“Harry?” Draco whispered; his voice barely louder than a deep breath.

“Hm?”

“How much does it hurt?”

“Hard to say, Draco. There are so many variables, the pain tolerance of the submissive, the experience of the dominant partner, the type of candle used, the height from which the wax is dropped, the part of the body that is covered in wax, and whether we broaden the scope of the temperature play by including ice cubes to numb the skin—”

A deep frown slowly creased Draco’s forehead and Harry stopped combing his fingers through his hair. Instead, he flattened out the creases, then placed a single finger across Draco’s lips to stop him from protesting when it became apart to him that this was exactly what Draco was about to do.

“I know that none of this information is particularly helpful to you, so let me ask you, would you be willing to try a little experiment? I promise you there won’t be any candles involved and I will not drip any wax onto any part of you, however, the sensation you’ll feel will be like a drop of melted wax connecting with your bare skin.”

Harry felt the tremor that surged through Draco, he felt him tense and saw the unease in his eyes. To calm him, he unlinked their hands and sought out the pulse point on Draco’s wrist instead. He pressed two fingers against it and after applying a bit of pressure for a minute or two, he slowly began to draw circle after circle.

Draco let out a shaky breath and placing his other hand right above Draco’s heart, Harry smiled softly, warmly, reassuringly.

It took several moments before Harry could feel Draco relax but he did calm down and the knowledge that he had that kind of power over Draco, that he could provoke that kind of response in Draco, entirely without words, made Harry feel heady.

The sensation was both exhilarating and electrifying but he also cherished it above all.

To Harry, Draco’s reaction to his soothing touch meant everything. It was proof of their deep connection and proof of how much Draco trusted him. Words couldn’t express this, it was something that you needed to feel, needed to see, had to experience to believe it.

“If you don’t feel ready, if you need more time, don’t force yourself, my love. Remember, I’ll never ask you to do something you’re not ready for,” Harry said.

“I know but I can’t wrap my mind around what it feels like and I think that’s what terrifies me more than the knowledge that if we do this you will at some point be holding a burning candle to me.”

Harry smiled.

“Do you want to know something cheesy?” he asked.

Draco raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

“What?”

“Not only do I find your desire to be brave immensely sexy, but it’s also on my list of reasons why I love you.”

Draco chuckled.

“That is utterly cheesy but I wouldn’t expect anything less from a Gryffindor,” he said and swinging his legs over the side of the sofa, he slowly sat up and allowed himself a little stretch, then curled up against Harry’s side.

Harry instantly wrapped his arms around Draco and pulled him into a fierce hug, then kissed the top of his head affectionately.

“I love you, my little prince.”

Draco hummed in approval, then pulled away and turned his head sideways.

“The anticipation is killing me, Potter. It’s turning me into a nervous wreck.”

“Good.”

Draco frowned.

“How is that good?”

Harry smiled. He got to his feet and pulling Draco up and off the sofa, he hugged him against his chest and pressed a kiss to his earlobe.

“Because the more you anticipate it, the more intense the sensations will be. That’s the beauty of this whole game. That’s exactly what makes a BDSM scene so intoxicating. I bet, right now, I could run a feather along the side of your neck and you’d feel it tickling you all over your body. I could pinch your arse and every single muscle in your body would tense and respond to the brief sensation of pain flowing through you. Or I could do this, do nothing more but whisper into your ear and let you feel the caress of the warmth of my breath and yet your entire body is alive, anticipating whatever my next move may be.”

Draco let out a soft little whimper which turned into a moan when Harry ran a single finger down his spine.

“Tell me, my little prince, do you trust me?”

“Yes— Yes, Sir.”

Harry pressed a kiss to Draco’s ear and nibbled on the shell, teasing the soft flesh with his tongue. Draco arched his back, pushed into his embrace and Harry tightened his hold on him.

“You’re beautiful like this, when you’re tethering right on the edge between being the smart, sexy and sassy prosecutor I love so much and my submissive little prince, who loves nothing more but to surrender to me and who so desperately wants to let go and fall, knowing I’ll be right there to catch him.”

Harry continued to tease, using nothing more than words to prepare Draco, to open him up, to heightened his anticipation, to make him desire a slice of the unknown.

He caressed Draco with the gentlest touch only and before long, Draco’s legs began to shake and his knees buckled.

“Kneel.”

One word, one simple instruction was all it took and without the slightest bit of hesitation and in one fluid motion Draco gracefully dropped to his knees. Harry supported him, getting down on one knee in front of Draco as he sat back on his haunches and looked at him with a thoroughly dazed expression. His pupils were dilated and his cheeks flushed. His mouth hung slightly open and the tip of his deliciously pink tongue darted out to wet briefly wet his lips.

Harry cupped his cheek, caressed it tenderly, then kissed him, slowly, deeply. He took his time to sweep his tongue over every inch of Draco’s mouth and when he pulled away Draco didn’t just look dazed; he was also breathless.

“Just beautiful, my sweet little prince, you’re so incredibly beautiful.”

A tiny shudder surged through Draco and his eyelids fluttered as he struggled to keep his eyes open.

Harry smiled softly.

“Close your eyes, sweet one,” he instructed, then gently moved Draco’s hands behind his back.

He placed them at his lower back and crossed them at the wrist, then pressed a kiss to Draco’s forehead.

“Wait here for me, my love, I’ll be back in just a minute.”

Getting to his feet, Harry stretched a little, then left the living room and heading into the kitchen, he searched one of the drawers for a glass pipette. Next, he filled a ceramic cup with warm water and magically altered the temperature until he was sure that it was about the same temperature as the melted wax of a soy candle. A simple Stasis Charm ensured that the water temperature remained constant and mug and pipette in hand, he made his way back into the living room.

He found Draco in exactly the position he’d left him in and approaching him, he crouched down in front of him and placed the mug and the pipette down on the carpet.

“My little prince, I’m back,” he said softly and caressing his cheek, he placed a tender kiss on Draco’s glistening lips. “How are you feeling?”

“A bit nervous, Sir,” Draco answered truthfully and Harry kissed him again.

“There’s absolutely no reason to be nervous, my love. Please keep your eyes closed but trust me when I tell you that there’s no candle in the room with us. I will not hurt you; I’m just going to give you an idea of what the sensation of a drop of hot wax landing on your skin might feel like.”

Draco shuddered and Harry caressed his cheek, then combed his fingers through his hair.

“Take a deep breath, my love. Slowly, yes, just like that. Inhale, then hold it for a bit, now exhale.”

Draco followed his instructions beautifully and Harry both felt and saw him relax. When he thought that Draco was ready, he asked for his left hand and after a moment of hesitation, Draco pulled a trembling hand out from behind his back and Harry took it with both hands.

He sought out the pulse point on Draco’s wrist with one hand and with the other he gently massaged Draco’s fingers and rubbed his thumb over the back of his hand. Harry continued to caress Draco’s hand until it stopped shaking quite so much. Then, and only then, he squeezed Draco’s hand gently and holding it in his own, he reached for the pipette and filled it with water.

“Ready, my love?”

Draco shook his head.

“No, but whatever it is you’re going to do, do it anyway. I trust you.”

“My little prince, you really are my brave good boy. I promise you this will not hurt; it’ll only sting a little. I also promise you that it’s not candle wax. Try and keep your eyes closed but if you can’t bear it, feel free to look, OK?”

“Yes, Sir,” Draco whispered.

Harry squeezed his hand one last time, then loosely held it in his own and lifting the pipette out of the water-filled cup, he shook off the excess water, then held it several inches above the back of Draco’s hand and squeezing the top of the pipette gently, he allowed a single drop of hot water to fall onto the back of Draco’s hand.

Draco gasped, his hand twitched and then a shudder surged through him. His eyes flew open and he stared at Harry with a disbelieving expression.

“What—”

Harry showed him the pipette with the clear water inside before he could finish his question and then, with Draco watching him, he repeated the action. A second drop of hot water fell onto the back of Draco’s hand and another gasp escaped Draco. He briefly tensed, then relaxed and Harry smiled. The sensation of the second drop of water connecting with his skin had been decidedly less intense but since he had such a strong reaction to it, the idea seemed to appeal to Draco. Harry took it as a good sign. Still, he took a moment to explain.

“It’s just water, hot water. About the same temperature as the melted candle wax would be. The sensation isn’t quite the same, but now you have an idea.

Draco inhaled sharply and wordlessly let his eyes fall closed. Harry took that as another good sign and turning his hand over, he let another drop of water fall onto Draco’s wrist.

A tiny hiss escaped past Draco’s lips and although his hand twitched, he didn’t pull away.

Harry caressed the wet spot on Draco’s wrist with his thumb, then dripped a little more water a little bit higher up on the inside of Draco’s forearm.

“How do you like this so far?” he asked gently.

Draco whimpered and with his eyes still closed, he flexed his fingers, then parted his lips and wetted them.

“Please, more,” he whispered.

Harry smiled and placing the pipette back inside the cup of water, he drew Draco into a kiss. It was a deeply passionate and slow kiss and while he used his mouth, lips and tongue to further twist Draco’s mind, Harry slowly twisted his fingers into the hem of Draco’s t-shirt and pulled it up, exposing his torso.

Draco willingly raised his hands above his head and briefly pulling away from the kiss, Harry divested him of the unwanted piece of clothing. He flung it onto the sofa, captured Draco’s lips in yet another kiss and slowly pushed him back, easing him onto the ground and helping him to adjust the position of his legs.

Once Draco was flat on his back, Harry broke away from the kiss and gently placing Draco’s arms above his head, he kissed his forehead, the tip of his nose and then his lips, chin, chest, left nipple, right nipple, and finally left a trail of wet kisses down the centre of Draco’s chest, stopping only when he reached his belly button. He circled it with the tip of his tongue and Draco’s stomach muscles quivered in response to the teasing caress. Harry pressed his lips to Draco’s navel, kissed it, then pulled away and reaching for the mug of water, he brought it closer.

A wordless, wandless spell later ensured the temperature of the water was just a tiny little bit higher than before and filling the pipette with fresh water, he shook off the excess water, then dripped some of the water over Draco’s forearms, continuing with his left one but eventually moving on to his right one. He dropped hot water on the inside of Draco’s upper arms, all over his chest and over his stomach.

With every single drop, Draco shivered, gasped, and let out a breathy little moan, a sigh, or a whimper. The soft and sweet sounds he made, reverberated around the room and were music to Harry’s ears.

“You’re doing so well, my precious,” Harry praised. “Tell me, does it feel good?”

Draco shuddered.

“Yes, Sir.”

He let out another shaky breath and Harry continued to drip hot water all over Draco’s body until the cup was almost empty. Only then did he place the pipette back inside the cup and moving it out of the way, he slowly and gently ran his hands over Draco’s chest, caressing his erect nipples and teasingly flicking his nails over them. The water had long since cooled and Draco’s skin was slightly damp, though Harry did not let that concern him.

Draco keened and writhed a little. Harry bent over him, kissed him deeply and while he did, he expertly undid the top button of Draco’s trousers and pulled the zipper down. Slipping his hand inside, he palmed Draco’s half-erect cock, stroking it to full hardness, then pulled back to admire the complete mess he’d made of Draco in the space of a little under an hour.

He was panting, had parted his lips, and kept writhing on the floor, running the soles of his feet over the carpet. Harry smiled and divesting Draco of his trousers and boxers, he admired his naked form, then set about kissing every inch of him. He didn’t touch Draco’s cock again but lavished the rest of Draco’s body with double the number of tiny kisses and little nips.

By the end of his mouth’s extended exploration of Draco’s body, Draco was a whimpering, moaning needy mess of pliable goo and refilling the cup of water, Harry adjusted the temperature, then continued to drop tiny drops of hot water onto Draco’s body, this time focusing on his legs and the inside of his thighs. Each tiny drop resulted in a low moan falling from Draco’s lips.

“Please,” he said breathlessly.

“Please what, my little prince? What do you need?”

“Please.”

Draco repeated himself and Harry kissed him and swallowed a series of moans and a long groan. He blindly summoned a tube of lube, hidden behind a bunch of books on the shelf across the room and feeling it whizz past his head, he expertly caught it with one hand and showering Draco with yet more kisses, he flicked the lid open, then pulled away and instructing Draco to keep his hands above his head, he coated his fingers with plenty of lube, then rubbed a single finger over Draco’s fluttering, quivering hole.

“ _Ngh_ , please, Sir, please.”

Draco pleaded with him and opening his eyes, he stared at him with a thoroughly dazed expression. He was quite clearly high on endorphins and a thrill of excitement surged down Harry’s spine at the knowledge that he’d reduced Draco to this; a boneless pile of limbs.

Right this moment, Draco was open and vulnerable and it was a precious privilege to see him like this.

Harry swallowed past the lump in his throat and gently worked a single finger into Draco. He brought his lips within inches of Draco’s and whispered sweet words of praise.

“My beautiful little prince, you’re so brave and so incredibly strong. You’re perfect, just perfect and I love you so much.”

A tiny whimper fell from Draco’s parted lips and Harry pressed his finger against Draco’s prostate, repeatedly rubbing over it.

The whimper turned into a moan and the moan turned into a breathless, needy plea for more which Harry ignored for the time being.

He continued to tease Draco’s prostate and working a second finger into him, he fucked him, slowly, deliberately teasing him until Draco’s begged and pleaded for more.

Harry tried to imagine what kind of reaction Draco might have to actual wax play, a prolonged session of endless teasing, kissing, and caressing but he couldn’t. All he knew was that it would most definitely be intense and a desperate sort of longing filled his chest.

The rational part of his brain pushed the thought away and he focused his attention on Draco and only Draco. They were a long way from trying actual wax play and he wasn’t stupid enough to let his fantasy get the better of him. Not now, not ever.

“Please, Harry, please, please, please.”

Draco’s insistent pleas filled Harry’s ears and he smiled.

“What do you want, my little prince?” he asked but Draco continued to beg.

He was too far gone to ask for what he really wanted and it was up to Harry to try and gauge how to turn this into an unforgettable moment for him. He started with a slow-burning kiss, caressing Draco’s tongue with his own, then gradually increased the speed with which his two fingers repeatedly penetrated Draco, filling him, teasing his prostate.

Draco’s entire body shuddered and quivered and his internal muscles clenched around Harry’s fingers, holding them in a vice grip. Harry left a trail of kisses down the centre of Draco’s chest, then licked the entire length of his cock before sucking it deep into his mouth. A loud and entirely unrestrained groan filled the room and Draco bucked his hips up.

Harry pulled back a little and steadying Draco’s hips with one hand, he held him down and continued to suck his cock while finger-fucking him and stimulating his prostate. He teased him, bringing him to the edge of an incredible orgasm several times before finally allowing him to come.

As he climaxed, Harry felt Draco’s tight channel contract around his fingers and pressing against his prostate, he sucked his come right out of him, swallowing every drop.

Afterwards, he gently let his Draco’s rapidly softening cock slip out of his mouth and slowly easing his fingers out of Draco’s hole, he cast a quick cleaning charm on them, then wrapped Draco in a cocoon of heat with a very effective warming spell.

Draco mumbled some incoherent nonsense and pulling him into his arms, Harry gently transferred him onto the sofa, then curled up beside him and stroking his hair, he held him tight, allowing him all the time in the world to come down from his high. He did, though only marginally so, then opened his eyes, blinked, and frowned a little.

“You didn’t come,” he whispered.

Harry smiled. He was rather amused that this was Draco’s first concern and hastily reassured him.

“Don’t you worry about me, my love. This was about you; this was your experience.”

Draco hummed under his breath, closed his eyes again and his breathing slowed. In no fit state to fight his desire to sleep, he simply drifted off into the land of dreams. Harry stayed right there beside him, disinclined to move even just an inch and thoroughly in awe of Draco’s courage to put all his trust in him for the sake of trying something so new. He pressed a kiss to Draco’s forehead, lingered for a moment and smiled.

“I love you,” he whispered, then adjusted his position a little and summoning a blanket, he covered Draco with it and gave in to the urge to nap for a little while.

* * *

* * *

Draco dried the last dinner plate, returned it to the cupboard and leaning back against the kitchen counter, he toyed with the slightly damp kitchen dishcloth and smiled at Harry who was casually leaning against the doorframe, watching him.

“Some things are still mind-boggling,” he said with a lopsided grin and a cheeky twinkle in his eyes.

Harry’s smile, or grin rather, was the kind of devious smile that promised absolutely no good and despite knowing that he would regret his next question, Draco asked anyway.

“What things?”

“You. In my kitchen. Doing the dishes without magic.”

Draco rolled his eyes and balling up the dishcloth in his hand, he flung it at Harry’s general direction. Harry lazily pushed away from the doorframe and took a step forward. As expected, he caught the towel with one hand and with practically no effort.

 _Show off_ , Draco thought but didn’t voice his thoughts. Somehow, he had the feeling it would end with him bend over the kitchen counter getting a spanking and while that thought sounded rather enticing, he wasn’t sure whether he was ready for a red arse just yet.

“Naughty boy,” Harry said with a grin.

He walked further into the kitchen and returning the dishcloth to its original place, he placed two black leather-bound journals on the table, then leant against it and beckoned Draco over.

Draco smiled and crossing the room, he stopped in front of Harry and resting his arms on Harry’s shoulders, he let Harry pull him into a slow and sweet kiss. It really wasn’t the kind of kiss that twisted his mind and turned him upside down but given how much intense sex they’d had since getting up late this morning, it left him feeling just a little dizzy. He shifted ever so slightly and leaning forward, he relished in Harry’s strong embrace and the feeling of safety that always came with it. It had become such a habit now that he could barely imagine what life had been like before that cocoon of safety, Harry could provide without doing anything special at all — just being there was what mattered to Draco, along with being open and honest.

“You wouldn’t want me any other way,” Draco mumbled.

He buried his face in Harry’s neck and hummed contently when Harry hugged him that little bit tighter, locking him into place and making getting away virtually impossible. Then again wriggling out of Harry’s embrace was the last thing on Draco’s mind.

“Are you trying to crawl into me?”

Harry mocked affectionally and chuckling against the warm bare skin of his neck, Draco smiled.

“Now here’s a thought.”

Harry laughed and squeezed him tightly in his arms. Draco thoroughly enjoyed the possessive bear hug and although it made breathing a little harder than usual, he stayed right where he was, unmoving and with his eyes closed. He inhaled through his nose, breathing in Harry’s familiar scent, and allowing himself a moment to drift, he didn’t focus on any specific thought but savoured the sensations that flowed through him.

The warmth that radiated from Harry’s body, the gentle caress of his fingertips against the bare skin of his lower back — Draco wasn’t entirely sure when Harry had managed to slip his fingers underneath the hem of his shirt but he most definitely wasn’t complaining about the barely-there feel of Harry’s touch. Then there was Harry’s slow and even breathing, steady, much like his heartbeat. It was warm against the hollow of his neck and his lips, softly nipping on his skin, trailing butterfly kisses along part of his collarbone. All of that was perfect, just perfect, and Draco wanted more of it.

He let out a soft sigh and allowed the feeling of contentment to wash over him and consume him.

So far, today had been utterly perfect and Draco wasn’t in the least bit worried that that would change any time soon. After a crazy work week, they’d enjoyed a late start to the day, kinky morning sex, and the most scrumptious brunch, Draco had eaten in while — homemade this time as they’d both been too lazy to leave the house. The best part about brunch, however, had been the fact that Harry had made all of it, had been willing to get out of bed before him to prepare a table full of food while he continued to laze around in bed, staring at the canopy of Harry’s bed and basking in post-sex and post-nap bliss.

Beating Harry at chess had been simple enough but even though Draco had known he’d end up winning, he still considered their matches fair and had thoroughly enjoyed each one of them.

When Harry had brought up the topic of wax play, Draco had initially felt terrified of having to discuss it — he’d half hoped that since he’d asked Harry about it during sex, Harry’s hazy mind hadn’t properly registered the question. Naturally, Harry had, once again and as always, proven that nothing ever slipped his attention. On one hand, Draco was grateful for that, on the other hand, it often filled him with mild trepidation, though Harry always managed to assure him and ease his worries about certain topics.

He had to admit that their first conversation about the subject had gone rather well — there was still a lot more left to discuss. Draco knew that much and even though it terrified him, he also looked forward to having several honest and meaningful conversations with Harry. There was something oddly reassuring about being able to bare his soul to Harry without having to worry about Harry laughing at him or judging him.

It felt like each time they talked, they somehow drifted closer together, got more entangled and added to the solid foundation they’d built their relationship on.

Draco let his mind drift back to the kinky sex that had followed their conversation and the selfless way in which Harry had teased him, finger-fucked him and finally allowed him to come in his mouth, something that didn’t exactly happen very often since it was usually the other way around. It had felt incredible, truly—

“Is everything all right, my sweet little prince?”

Pulling back a little, Draco lifted his head away from the hollow of Harry’s neck and smiled, then nodded. Harry had loosened his hold on him just enough for him to straighten up a little but he hadn’t let go completely and Draco appreciated that a lot. He wanted to stay right there in Harry’s arms, for no other reason than that it felt good, incredibly good.

“Yes, why do you ask?”

He answered Harry’s question truthfully, not feeling the need to hide behind a lie.

“You are very affectionate this evening.”

Draco shrugged.

“Can’t help myself around you.”

Harry chuckled and as the sound of warm laughter reverberated around the room, Draco felt a pleasant tingle surge down his spine and pool low in his groin. It wasn’t arousal per se but it most definitely had the potential to end up heading into that direction.

“Neither can I, however, I’m going to be bold and say that the reason you’re being this cuddly tonight is because I pushed you under twice today.”

“I wouldn’t mind a third time,” Draco mumbled.

At his own unplanned confession, he felt his cheeks heat and knew instantly that he was blushing rather furiously. It made him want to avert his eyes and focusing on the two black leather-bound journals, Harry had put down on the table earlier, he curiously wondered about their purpose. He’d never seen Harry keep a diary and couldn’t recall Harry ever telling him that he liked jotting his thoughts down. He supposed that they could be work-related but somehow, he doubted that.

“Wicked how easy it is to make you feel all bashful around me.”

Harry’s words made Draco shudder and when he felt Harry cup his chin and turn his head to gently force him to look at him, he didn’t resist. Their eyes met and Draco swallowed. He squeezed Harry’s shoulders and his knees buckled a little but Harry merely tightened his hold on him and held him upright.

“Later, my love,” he whispered. “First, I have something I’d like to talk to you about.”

The promise hung in the air like a thick blanket of haze fogging up Draco’s mind and it took him several moments to shake off the immediate anticipation he felt at the prospect of yet more play. As per their contract, this weekend wasn’t one of their designated play weekends but Harry had certainly managed to turn it into one and Draco had no objections, none whatsoever.

However, he was acutely aware of the fact that Harry wanted to talk to him and that he should probably show at least some sense of decorum. With some difficulty, Draco shook off the desire to sink to his knees and beg Harry to forgo their conversation or at least postpone it until tomorrow. He was, however, certain that Harry would never agree to do that and so Draco decided that there was no use in chancing his luck.

He opened his mouth with the very intention to ask what Harry wanted to talk about but the question unexpectedly caught in his throat and he blinked instead, then brought his face closer to Harry’s and swallowed. Distracted by his drifting mind and a random thought that had popped into it, Draco’s eyes flickered to Harry’s slightly parted lips and he pressed his own together, then looked back up and straight into Harry’s emerald-green eyes.

A small shudder surged through him.

“Please,” he breathed.

Harry reacted instantly and in the most perfect way.

“What do you want, my little prince?” he asked.

“I—”

Draco croaked, then tried to clear his throat. His gaze dropped back down to Harry’s lips and he licked his own, wondering whether Harry was really going to make him ask for something as simple as a kiss or whether he was just teasing him, pushing him a little further into a submissive mindset without actually pushing him too far — Harry was very good at that, the push and pull of submission versus Draco’s desire to give him a healthy dose of his signature Malfoyesque sass. Harry always made sure that he got both, in almost equal measures, but there were times when he favoured submission and he usually made it obvious that he expected him to obey or pay the price.

“Ask for it.”

Yes—

Apparently, Harry was absolutely going to make him ask for a kiss.

Draco inhaled deeply and felt a quiver of excitement flutter in his stomach.

It turned into a wave and rolled out through his body. He tried to lean closer, tried to capture Harry’s lips in an innocent little kiss anyway but Harry simply placed a single finger across his lips and shook his head.

“No, Draco. You want it, you ask for it.”

“ _Ngh_.”

Draco briefly closed his eyes.

There was something oddly exhilarating about Harry expecting him to ask for a kiss, a gesture that was usually a given between them. Opening his eyes again and staring straight into Harry’s, Draco swallowed again, then parted his lips just as Harry withdrew his finger.

“Sir, please kiss me.”

He whispered the words, practically exhaled them, and felt his cheeks flush with heat when Harry smiled at him.

“Good boy.”

Two simple words yet the power behind him was incredible. The praise washed over Draco, jolted down his spine and joined the pleasant tingle pooling low in his groin.

A soft and barely audible whimper fell from his lips and Harry captured them with his own and kissed him. Draco’s eyes fluttered closed and he melted against Harry, turning boneless for the duration of the kiss.

It was a slow, teasing kiss, one that was full of promise, reassurance, love, and tenderness. Draco relished in it and when Harry slowly pulled away some moments or perhaps even hours later, Draco wasn’t quite sure, he instinctively chased after Harry’s lips, wanting more still.

“ _Tsk_ , not so greedy, my love, you can have more, later. For now, let’s sit down and talk.”

Draco grudgingly nodded but made no attempt to peel himself away from Harry.

Instead, he waited for Harry to push himself off the kitchen table and spin them around. He used his foot to drag one of the chairs out and when he gently eased him down, Draco willingly seated himself. He reached for the carafe of water and pouring himself a glass, he downed half of the cool refreshing liquid in one go, then wrapped his hands around the glass and watched as Harry sat down across from him.

“What do you want to talk about?”

Draco was mildly surprised at just how steady his voice sounded and credited the water for it.

“Merely a continuation of our conversation from this earlier today but first I’d like to hear your thoughts about this afternoon.”

Draco sighed softly and was instantly grateful when Harry reached across the table and wrapped his own hands around his. They were now both holding on to the glass.

“Why the sigh?”

“Beyond that it was incredible, I’ve no clue where to start.”

Harry smiled.

“Would you prefer if I asked you questions?”

Draco nodded.

“I think that would make the whole thing easier.”

“Got it, no problem. Questions it is. You like it when I tease into submission, you like it when I give you a couple of nudges until you start unravelling and once you do, you fall. Is that right?”

Draco nodded again and was surprised when Harry clicked his tongue in obvious disapproval.

“No, Draco, for this conversation I need you to use your words. Nods, hums, looks, and hand gestures won’t cut it, I’m afraid.”

“Why does that not surprise me?”

Harry smiled.

“Because, at this stage, you, to a certain extent at least, know what I expect from you, which is very good. It means that you’ve been attentive, willing to learn and respectful of some of the things I require from you. Now, please answer my question.”

“You’re right. I want to submit to you and it’s not like I absolutely need you to push me but I enjoy the thrill of it, I enjoy the way you twist my mind and get me ready for whatever scene you have in mind.”

Draco appreciated Harry’s warm smile and the light squeeze he gave his hands.

“Very good. Thank you for telling me. I’ll make sure to make that a regular part of our playtime. Now, please tell me how you felt about my little experiment.”

“The drop of hot water on the back of my hand?”

Draco asked to clarify but also to stall for a bit of time. He knew wasn’t necessary because whenever they had one of their chats, Harry always gave him all the time in the world to think about his questions and never rushed him or pressured him into answering. Sometimes, he helped to order Draco’s thoughts but he never pushed his opinions on him and Draco loved that.

Harry nodded in response and Draco wanted to point out that it wasn’t fair that he had to use his words but Harry could nod in response, however, before he could say anything, Harry spoke up.

“Yes, Draco. How did you feel about that first drop of hot water onto the back of your hand?”

Draco swallowed his sassy comment right down but Harry’s knowing smile unnerved him — it was plain as day that Harry knew exactly what he’d been about to say and it took Draco about a minute to push any thoughts about that conversation to the back of his mind and focus on Harry’s question. He mulled it over for several minutes, sorted his feelings and categorised his thoughts, then took a deep breath.

“I can’t really describe it. I didn’t know what you were going to do so my mind was reeling, I can’t remember if I was expecting something or whether I was just high on excitement and the adrenaline of it all. It— it— it was— I still can’t believe it was just water. It felt so incredibly intense, although I think most of that was due to the way you fucked with my head before you left the room.”

“That first drop of water should have given you an idea of what melted wax slowly dropping onto your skin might feel like, although I’d like to warn you, actual wax will feel a bit more intense. How about the rest of the play? After that first drop, the sensations couldn’t have been quite that intense but you still rather enjoyed me slowly dripping all that hot water over you, didn’t you?”

Draco nodded and pulling his bottom lip into his mouth, he worried it with his teeth for a minute or two, then slowly let it go.

“It wasn’t as intense as that first drop, you’re right, but it was hot and just really nice. I liked the feeling of the water running over my skin. I don’t know why, it just felt incredibly good,” he said.

Harry smiled and pulling his hands away, he leant back on his chair and rested one hand on top of the black leather-bound journals while casually dropping his other hand into his lap.

“Are you perhaps discovering a soft spot for water sports, my love?”

Draco scrunched up his face, shuddered, and shook his head.

“Salazar, no. The only place I will pee into is the toilet or against a tree somewhere in the woods if I absolutely have to.”

“Hm, I didn’t say you’d be the one doing the peeing. Perhaps you like the sensation of warm urine covering you. It doesn’t feel all that different from what I did to you earlier, except it’s not drop after drop but a steady stream.”

Draco shuddered again.

“No, definitely no. Absolutely not. Hard limit. No. I don’t want to be peed—”

Draco paused and holding Harry’s gaze, he suddenly swallowed hard.

“Hang on, is this something you like?” he asked.

He tightened his hold on the glass of water in his hands and for a moment he worried that he’d end up shattering it into a thousand tiny shards of glass.

Harry shrugged.

“I can take it or leave it. If my sub enjoys it so will I. If my sub doesn’t, neither will I.”

“You’ve tried it before, haven’t you?”

Harry nodded.

“Yes, I have, about two years ago with a casual play partner. She was quite into it and after a bit of negotiation I indulged her.”

Draco frowned.

“She?”

Harry smiled.

“Yes, Draco, she. A female sub.”

Draco swallowed hard.

“Did you— did you— I mean— Did you—”

Draco trailed off, dropped his gaze, and stared into his glass of water but out of the corner of his eyes, he watched as Harry leant forward and reached out for him. Harry pried his hands away from the glass and moved it out of the way. He then took Draco’s hands and squeezed them gently.

“Hey, look at me.”

Harry’s voice was soft and gentle and full of warmth and tenderness. It was impossible to ignore and tearing his gaze away from their linked hands, Draco looked up and into Harry’s eyes.

“What is it Draco? What is bothering you?” Harry asked.

“I don’t— It’s—”

Draco wanted to refute, wanted to say that nothing was bothering him but Harry’s raised eyebrow, a silent reminder that bullshit was no use, made him swallow the lie right down and he opted for outright honesty — it had worked for them before, more than once, and he was sure it would work in his favour now.

“Am I going to come across as jealous if I ask whether she’s part of your kink circle at the club?”

Harry smiled and somehow, and even though he didn’t have his answer yet, the smile reassured Draco.

“Full disclosure. Yes, you do come across as a little jealous but no I don’t mind because somehow, it’s oddly endearing, however, I might use this later and give you some physical reassurance on top of the verbal ones I’m going to give you now. Also, and because I know this is what you’re going to ask, yes, I had sex with her, penetrative and non-penetrative. Oral, anal, you name it, following her consent, I made her do it. Now, let me give you a bit of background info. A couple of years ago I used to travel up to Bristol on weekends and from there I’d apparate to Godric’s Hollow. I wanted to see if I could, perhaps, restore Potter Cottage and I did do some work on it but the flood of memories and being this close to my parents’ grave got the better of me pretty soon so I searched Bristol for a dungeon and a play partner for some casual play. I wanted something a bit out there, something to take my mind off the memories, stress relief. Emma had a thing for rough body play and primal play and a few other more extreme kinks. We clicked and we played on several weekends over the course of about four months. After that, I gave up trying to fix Potter Cottage and put it down as a lost cause.”

Draco remained silent for a few minutes, trying to process the flood of information. Sure, they’d had rough sex before, sex that had left him sore, sex that had left him feeling claimed and owned but apart from letting Harry chase him around the house once or twice before putting him over his knee, they’d never engaged in anything extremely rough. Somehow, he doubted that this was what Harry had done in back in Bristol. He imagined that it had been a lot rougher, more hands-on, and quite possibly most definitely not something he would be comfortable trying out.

Harry squeezed his hands and the comforting gesture stopped Draco from descending too deep into his own mind and overthinking the whole thing.

“How rough did you get?” he asked quietly, not even sure whether he wanted an answer to his question but too curious not to ask it anyway.

“Are you sure you want to know that?”

Draco shook his head. He appreciated Harry’s question, appreciated him checking in and giving him an opportunity to decide that he didn’t want to know after all.

“No. Try me anyway.”

Harry’s smile was infectious. It tugged at the corners of his own mouth, curling his lips up into a small smile.

“We got pretty rough. Emma had a thing for trying to attack back and lunging at me until I slapped her back down and held her down. She liked me telling her all sorts of dark stuff, which I am not going to repeat because I don’t think it’s something you need to know. Now, before you panic, please keep in mind that it was all consensual and pre-negotiated down to the number of times I hit her and how long the scene would last. Most of our scenes crackled with energy and we always drew a large crowd.”

Draco squeaked.

“Crowd?” he asked.

Harry nodded.

“We played at the club and we always did the rough body play in a public play space. Honestly, I prefer private or at least in a space where you’re not immediately aware that people are watching you but for rough body play, it’s always useful to have a couple of dungeon monitors overseeing the scene to stop anyone from interrupting you and your sub. People tend to assume there’s some level of abuse going on and they want to step in which is about the worst thing they could do when a sub has gone deep.”

“I feel like I’m discovering this completely different side of you.”

Harry chuckled and his eyes twinkled with a strange sort of mischief.

“Not a completely different side of me, just a slightly darker one. It doesn’t come out often, there’s no need.”

Draco huffed out a breath of air.

“Slightly?” he asked then fell silent and pulled his bottom lip back into his mouth. He gnawed on it until Harry reached out and freed it.

He pressed his thumb to Draco’s lower lip and dropping his jaw a tiny bit, Draco felt the tip of it slip into his mouth and rest there. It wasn’t a gesture meant to gag but Draco rather enjoyed the possessive nature of it. The act, no matter how gentle, was domineering and it gave Draco a rush.

“Stop it, don’t worry your bottom lip like that. Instead, tell me what’s on your mind. Tell me everything.”

Draco remained silent for another minute though not because he wanted to be disobedient but because he needed a little more time to talk himself into asking the question that was presently burning on his mind.

“Harry… This kind of rough body play, is that something you need, maybe even want from me?”

Harry responded without the slightest bit of hesitation.

“I can honestly tell you that I haven’t thought about it once since we started with your little exploration of the world of kink. Rough body play isn’t something I think about when I look at you, although I will once again be bluntly honest with you. If at some point in the future and after a lot of research and watching several scenes, this type of play was something you wanted to try out, I’d be willing to negotiate a scene with you. However, I can tell you right now that I don’t think this will ever be something you enjoy.”

Draco nodded in silent affirmation but said nothing to interrupt Harry’s flow of speech. Instead, he puckered his lips and kissed the tip of Harry’s thumb before he withdrew it.

“You know, Draco, I think you might enjoy a light form of primal play. I can see you enjoying the thrill of the chase; a petty little thief running from an Auror, perhaps. I can see you letting me catch you and possibly ending up in a cell up in the playroom, naked and on your knees but still trying to talk your way out of the crime, maybe even trying to bribe the Auror and earning yourself a kinky little punishment for it. I can see you enjoying something like that but nothing darker than that.”

Draco let out a small sigh of relief, one he hadn’t even known he’d been holding, and relaxed when Harry squeezed his hands tightly, then turned his hands so that his palms faced upward. Harry’s thumbs found the pulse points of both his wrists. The moment they pressed against the sensitive skin on the inside of his wrist all worry fled Draco’s mind and he concentrated on the soothing sensation of Harry’s touch.

How Harry managed to have that sort of effect on him still mesmerised him but he didn’t feel inclined to question Harry’s power over him. He just wanted to relish in the soft blanket of security that cloaked him whenever Harry touched him like that.

“Harry?”

“Yes, my love.”

“I know we went a bit off topic here, but what are those journals for?”

“Funny you should ask; I was hoping to somehow stir the conversation back to that. But first, I want to know if you’re OK with everything we’ve just discussed. I also want to remind you that it was a discussion only. It wasn’t a negotiation and I don’t expect you to feel pressured into trying anything you’re not comfortable trying, everyone has their limits and boundaries they aren’t willing to cross and that’s perfectly all right. I know I say this all the time but I can’t reiterate myself often enough. I will never—”

“You will never want anything I don’t want. I know, Harry, and I appreciate it.”

Harry smiled.

“Just this once I will not tell you off for interrupting me but only because right now something else is a lot more important to me and that is reminding you that with you, play comes second to me. It’s your submission that turns me on, your trust in me. It’s watching you unravel, watching you fall. It’s breaking you and then putting you back together and doing that repeatedly and often. I don’t need to get rough with you to get off or to get you off. I enjoy the sensual aspect of it, twisting your mind and fucking with your head.”

Draco let out a shaky breath although he was convinced it was a whimper.

“The journals,” he squeaked and promptly shuddered at the sound of his own voice, then cleared his throat and tried to look all menacing when Harry chuckled softly.

“Yes, let’s come back to that. There shall always be time for more reassurances later. OK then, these journals used to be quite ordinary until I put a charm on them, a charm that links them together. Do you still remember the letter I made you write after we first tried prolonged orgasm control and denial?”

Draco nodded, then frowned. He had no idea what Harry had cooked up now but he was quite sure that it was devious.

“All right, well, it’s quite common for a Dom to ask his sub to keep a journal and that’s exactly what I am going to ask you to do. Normally I would just give you the book and ask you to write in it, then show me your entry the next day or something like that, however, I don’t want you to edit your thoughts or erase things you’ve written down because you feel foolish about them afterwards, so I’ve decided to add a bit of magic to this. I’m sure you can guess what kind of charm I’ve put on the journals?”

“A charm that automatically transcribes whatever I write into my copy directly into yours.”

Harry nodded.

“My smart little prince, you are absolutely right.”

“Why are you suddenly asking me to keep a journal? We usually just sit down and have a chat.”

Harry smiled and Draco felt oddly relieved when he squeezed his hands again, then resolutely got up from his chair and moved to perch himself on the table beside Draco.

“And we will keep doing that, nothing is going to change about that. However, some things are easier to write down. You want to give wax play a try but given your phobia, I think we’re still a long way from trying that. I want to ease you into it and I have a plan but for that plan to work I need to know the state of your mind, how you feel, what your thoughts are on whatever we’ve tried. I want earnest emotions and raw feelings. I expect to be able to guess most of what you’re going to write down in your journal from your reactions during playtime but I still want you to keep a journal for the next month or so. You can tell me anything. You can rant about work; you can tell me about the most mundane things that are flitting through your mind or you can tell me how you feel about us. You can tell me about your fantasies, your dreams, absolutely anything. I want to know it all.”

“Do I have to write about our scenes?” Draco asked.

Harry shook his head.

“No, you don’t. As I said, you can write about anything you like but you must make an entry every day. It’s up to you when and you can even make an entry several times a day if you feel like it that is.”

“I get the feeling that this is non-negotiable.”

Harry nodded and smiled.

“It is.”

Draco sighed.

“It feels weird like I’m going to let you right into my head.”

“That’s what I’m hoping for and that’s exactly where I want you to let me go. I promise you; all your entries are for my eyes only. I will not share them or talk about them with anyone but you. I also won’t spring a conversation about one of your journal entries on you. I’ll tell you in advance which one I’d like to talk about and I’ll give you time to get into the right headspace for it.”

“You’re really pulling your Dom-card here, Harry,” Draco said with a smile.

Harry chuckled.

“I’m not actually. I’m lax with the rules, you’re getting a lot of freedom from me. Normally, I would choose a time of day, say, for example, seven thirty in the evening and allocate an hour for you to complete your journal entry. Then I’d expect you to hand me your journal. I’d read the entry and then we’d chat about it. For you, however, I don’t believe that to be the right approach. It’s also not feasible because we don’t live together.”

Draco moved his chair back a little and stretched his legs out underneath the table. For a moment, he focused on the buttons of Harry’s shirt, then he lifted his gaze up and looked directly into Harry’s emerald-green eyes, allowing himself a minute or two to drown in the swirling orbs. They were shining with love and warmth and were so full of emotion that Draco simply couldn’t stop the lump that formed in his throat, one that made it quite difficult to swallow past it.

Harry smiled affectionately and Draco took in his pose.

It was open and welcoming. Whenever they talked, Harry never crossed his legs at the ankles nor did he cross his arms over his chest. In fact, he hardly ever did. Harry was always open, approachable, willing to communicate, and honest. He never held back; he explained and volunteered information. He never expected more than Draco was willing or able to give. All he really expected was respect and all he wanted, craved perhaps, was the gift of submission, and love. It was so easy to be open and honest with him and at this stage, Draco was so accustomed to it that he couldn’t imagine ever having a relationship without that level of non-sexual intimacy. He craved it, needed it, wanted it. It had become part of his sanity.

“We do though.”

The words slipped past Draco’s lips before he could stop them and he flushed bright red, then tried to avert his eyes but, as always, Harry’s hand was faster. It cupped his chin and held him in place, not firmly and it certainly didn’t hurt but there was that delicious dominance Draco didn’t know how to resist, didn’t want to resist.

“We do?” Harry asked quietly and with a curious and somewhat bemused expression.

In this very moment, Draco really didn’t trust his vocal cords to obey him and so he simply nodded, then took a deep breath to calm his nerves and hopefully stop himself from blushing quite so furiously.

Unfortunately, Harry chose exactly that moment to caress his cheek with the tip of his thumb, pressing it against his cheekbone and Draco’s breath caught in his throat, right where that lump had been only moments ago. His heart fluttered in his chest and Draco was fairly sure that it had skipped several beats and might just stop beating altogether if Harry continued to stare down at him with that intense gaze of his and the look that always made Draco feel like absolutely nothing but him mattered in Harry’s world.

“Care to elaborate, my little prince?”

Harry posed the question with a soft, warm voice yet there was a clearly discernible firmness to it that flooded Draco, surged down his spine, and lingered low in his groin along with that pleasant tingle from earlier as well as Harry’s praise. His flushed cheeks persistently remained red and heated and Harry smiled down at him.

“You’re a treasure, my sweet little prince. Now tell me.”

Draco keened and when Harry pressed the palm of his hand against his cheek, he pushed into the touch.

“Except for the one or other odd night out with friends or work commitments, we’re practically always together, we try to bump into each other at work and in the evenings we’re either at my flat or here. My clothes are here, your clothes are at mine. It feels like we live together.”

Harry continued to smile and wordlessly moved his hand from his cheek to his hair, twisted his fingers into it, then leant forward though not nearly as close as Draco wanted him to be, which was really very close.

“And what is it you really want to say to me, my little prince?”

His voice was low, husky, and with a raspy undertone that did unspeakable things to Draco, who flexed his fingers and letting them drop off the table, he clasped them around the edges of his chair, then sucked in a sharp breath when Harry moved to push his legs apart and claimed the space between them.

“No—nothing.”

Draco forced the word out, stammered it more likely, and yelped when Harry pushed his legs even further apart, then pulled on his hair, forcing his head back. He ran a single finger across his lips, his jaw, and his exposed throat, then down his chest and to the bulge that had started to form in his loose slacks. He squeezed and Draco couldn’t help but whimper.

“Harry—” he breathed.

“Do I really need to drag it out of you, my love? Because if I must do so, I absolutely will.”

“ _Ngh._ ”

Draco wanted to thrust up into the palm of Harry’s hand but Harry had pushed his legs so far apart that he could feel the dull burn of his stretched muscles in his thighs. It also meant that he couldn’t gain proper traction and when Harry towered right above him, face inches from his own, his will to think or show any sort of resistance went right out of the window.

“What is it you want, Draco? Do you want us to live together, my little prince? Is that what you really want to say?”

Draco gasped and licked his slightly parted lips, then shivered when Harry’s hot breath teased his face.

“You know what, my love, I fancy the idea of a trial run, a little experiment. Stay, for a month. Make Grimmauld Place your home, it’s as much yours as it is mine. You’re free to go back to Notting Hill any time you want but stay. With me. Make this our place. Not because I’m asking but because I know that deep down you want to.”

“You’re not playing fair… Sir—”

Harry chuckled and the sound thrilled Draco.

“How so?”

“I can’t think straight with you this close, touching me, dominating me.”

“Oh? Do you want me to stop?”

Harry’s smile was positively devious and when he attempted to pull away, Draco whimpered in protest and a low moan escaped past his lips followed by a whine.

“No, please.”

“Please what, Draco?”

“Please don’t.”

“Don’t what, Draco?”

“Don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop what, Draco?”

Draco ground his teeth in frustration. Harry was really going to make him ask for absolutely everything tonight and he could barely stand it yet the anticipation and thrill of having to tell Harry exactly what he wanted drove him wild with lust and desire.

“Don’t stop touching, please. Just— Let’s not talk anymore tonight, I need you. _Please_.”

“Hm, I can hardly deny you when you’re asking this nicely. Your request seems fair. I promised you more playtime and more playtime you shall get, along with all of tomorrow to think about the journals and moving in here for the next month and after that perhaps even staying for good, however, tomorrow after dinner I expect an answer, is that an acceptable deal my little prince?”

Draco nodded but Harry clicked his tongue and shook his head.

“Words, I need words.”

“Yes, Sir. I will give you an answer tomorrow after dinner.”

“That’s my good boy. Now then, I want you to go to my bedroom, get the key to the playroom, you know where it is, and then head up there. I’m going to give you exactly seven minutes, then I’m coming up and I expect to find you naked and kneeling on the floor with your hands behind your back.”

Draco swallowed hard.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good boy. Go.”

When Harry pulled away from him, Draco’s first reaction was to slump together in his chair and inhale deeply and several times. It took him a moment or two to regain a resemblance of composure and once he felt like getting up wouldn’t immediately result in him sinking to his knees, he looked up at Harry, who was perched on the kitchen table with his arms resting at his side, looking positively lecherous.

“May I— Sir, may I be excused?”

Harry inclined his head.

“You may.”

Draco slowly got to his feet and although they were shaking, he managed to make his way to the door. He was about to leave the room when Harry called his name and stopping, he turned to look at him.

“Sir?”

Harry smiled.

“I expect you to be wearing your collar when I get upstairs,” he said.

Draco’s knees buckled and he reached out to steady himself on the doorframe.

Harry’s low chuckle reverberated through him and momentarily closing his eyes, he swallowed hard, then inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. He opened his eyes again and lowering his head slightly, he left the kitchen and made his way upstairs, his mind reeling from his and Harry’s conversation about the journals, Harry’s honesty about his experience with rough body play and his offer to move into Grimmauld Place for the next month.

Draco’s brain ached with the avalanche of information it had to process and he quickened his pace, taking two steps at a time. He had a lot to think about but right now all he wanted was for Harry to push him under, to make him go deep and calm his thoughts. He wanted the haze, the brain fog, and the buzz as he slipped and floated.

He had no doubt that Harry would deliver, that he would make it good, and a wave of excitement rolled through Draco as his anticipation increased tenfold. It wasn’t especially late and tomorrow was Sunday. He’d happily submit to Harry playing with him all night, teasing him, tormenting him, and repeatedly driving him crazy.

* * *

 


	69. The Slow Drip Of Ecstasy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it'll be another short note.  
> Originally this chapter and the next were one massive chapter but I decided to split them apart, not to be cruel and draw things out but because reading 20K in one go might be a bit much.
> 
> Love,  
> Selly x
> 
> P.S. Usual warning stands, don't drink or eat, you may choke and I really don't want that.

* * *

> […] _The new case is horrid; my interim legal assistant is useless and I can’t help but question my career choice. Yes, I’m being whiny, spank me if you want._ […]
> 
> […] _I need release, I need distraction, I need to not be in charge for a while, I need to be yours for a while, a long while._ […]
> 
> […] _How do you do that? How do you always make my wildest dreams come true? How do you drown all the noise? How are you so fucking irresistible? Whatever magic you’re working on me, please never stop, I **need** it_ […]
> 
> […] _Yours, always yours._ […]
> 
> […] _Yes, yes, please._ […]
> 
> […] _Sir_ […]
> 
> […] _That delicious burn of the ropes, cutting into my flesh yet never breaking the skin, keeping me tightly bound, restrained — I have no desire to fight, to be free. I want to be bound in your ropes, at your mercy._ […]
> 
> […] _Devious fucking bastard!_ […]
> 
> […] _I hate that you always spell the curtains open. You and your wandless magic, enough already! I know it, you ooze power, no need to make a show of it every morning when I’m barely coherent, because I swear, Potter, one of these days I will snap and fire a stinging hex at you and I will not be held accountable for it — such are the joys of living with a Malfoy. You will undoubtedly try to get the upper hand but I promise you, on this issue, I will fight you every step of the way, tooth, and nail, and I WILL win._ […]
> 
> […] _A cat? You compared me to a fucking cat? Just because I like a good stretch and a lie in? Potter, bite me, just fucking bite me! Spank me, beat me, or whatever else your kinky black heart desires because today you’re getting full-on Malfoy sass. You won’t know what hit you._ […]
> 
> […] _I blame you for the burnt food, the disgusting takeaway, and the resulting food poisoning (thank Salazar for healing potions!) but I have no regrets about you getting rough with me and bending me over the kitchen table. Fuck, you can do this any time and whenever you like — providing you agree to cook afterwards because I won’t be in a fit state to lift a spatula, let alone season your favourite dish or remember my name._ […]
> 
> […] _You are a complete deviant, my arse is still throbbing, I’m due in court in ten minutes and I can barely stomach the idea of sitting down on the bench. Fuck! Why did I let you do this to me in your office? I should stop bringing you lunch, let alone allow you to make me melt with your dirty talk, Potter, you, you, you, I have no words for you._ […]
> 
> […] _I fucking hate the Ministry! I hate these outdated laws that I’m forced deal with every day — I ought to just retire and work on rewriting the law and getting it changed. He **should not** have walked; he belongs into Azkaban and I’m about ready to storm up into Shacklebolt’s office and give the Minister a sound piece of my mind — Fuck, please restrain me before I do something that will ruin my career for good, I’m so fucking close to exploding, it’s ridiculous._ […]
> 
> […] _I honestly think it’s cute (I may regret using this word to describe Ronald Weasley but fuck eloquence on this one) that your best mate still thinks he stands a chance against me at chess — Wizarding or Muggle, I swear, I will make it my life’s mission to knock Weasley on his arse. It gives me so much pleasure, too much pleasure. I think I’m developing an unhealthy kink for beating your best mate’s arse — figuratively, Potter, get your twisted mind out of the fucking gutter._ […]
> 
> […] _I wish Teddy would stop calling me Uncle D — it’s a horrendous insult to my name and just as bad as Gin insisting on calling me Drake. What is it with small children and women? They do something you can’t stand and then they look at you with the most adorable puppy dog eyes and before you know it, you’re melting and forgiving them everything — why does that stuff never work on your, Potter, huh? You dated women, I don’t even like them (and I’m still not sure about children), never have and never will. They are odd creatures; I don’t understand them._ […]
> 
> […] _Caleb’s a mouthy ~~little~~ oversized bitch. That’s all._ […]
> 
> […] _A part of me wants to hate you but another, much larger, part of me just wants to fall at your feet and ask you to do it all over again_ […]
> 
> […] _too much, too much, yet not nearly enough, more, more, more, please, please, please_ […]
> 
> […] _You always say I’m not ready but I feel ready. I want to do this, so bad, you have no idea. Or maybe you do, I don’t kno_ w. _I never know._ […]
> 
> […] _Can this become a regular thing? Weirdly enough, I’m so used to writing to you, it feels like we have this special bond, like our thoughts connect through the journals, like you’re a part of me and I’m a part of you. It feels so intimate and intense and whenever we talk about things — Fuck, do you always have to blow my mind? You do, don’t you? It’s your kink, isn’t it?_ […]
> 
> […] _I don’t like falling asleep without you. I don’t want to even try. Funny how it took almost no time for me adjust to falling asleep with your naked body wrapped around mine. I hate that you’re on a stakeout tonight, I’m so tired but I don’t want to sleep until you are back home and I’m in your arms, where I belong. I feel stupid for sounding so whiney but I can’t help it. You make me feel safe and I need you here with me._ […]
> 
> […] Kneel. _How do you do this? With one word you turn my whole world upside down, with one word you drive me right out of my mind, with one word you make me feel so alive, so acutely aware of everything that’s happening and once again I have no words, I’m just, my brain hasn’t resumed functioning properly yet._ […]
> 
> […] _How is Liam not in the least bit embarrassed about being completely naked in front of visitors? How does that— I can’t even begin to wrap my head around it. It makes absolutely no sense to me. Please, don’t ever force me to be naked in front of others. My submission to you is for your eyes only; I’ll happily walk around the house naked for you but I won’t ever do it with others around. I don’t ever want others to see. I’m not ashamed or afraid but it’s just always so intense and intimate, I want that to be between us and only us._ […]
> 
> […] _I knew you had ulterior motives; I just knew it!_ […]
> 
> […] _Fucking hell! I’ve nothing else to say today yet it perfectly sums up today. I HATE IMBECILES!!! Merlin, have mercy on my soul for I’m about to feed it to a dementor to get out of this hellhole also known as the Wizengamot — whatever the fuck was I thinking when I signed up for this job?_ […]
> 
> […] _That was the worst punishment you could have given me but I deserved it — I rest my case, you win. Just like you always do. Lesson learnt._ […]
> 
> […] _When I said that I need you save me from blowing up the entire department I didn’t exactly have a kinky weekend in Brighton in mind but I have absolutely no complaints. Also, can you walk into just any BDSM dungeon and request a private room or did you bewitch all the stuff with your wandless magic? Please never stop being the wonderful person that you are. You absolutely are my sanity, my rock, my wings, my everything. And yes, screw sappy declarations of love, they are necessary, very necessary! Also, just so you know, I don’t care that you’ll have this black on white, I will absolutely and unequivocally deny I ever said/wrote this if you dare bring it up in a conversation._ […]

* * *

* * *

Draco had just finished dusting the living room with a couple of helpful spells when Harry walked into the room. As he approached Draco and stood behind him, he could tell that Draco had sensed his presence the moment he’d stepped into the room. He squeezed Draco’s shoulders, then let his hands slowly glide down Draco’s biceps and his bare forearms. His touch was teasing, featherlight in nature, and Draco shuddered.

“All done, my little prince?” he asked.

Draco let out a huff of air and Harry slipped his arms around Draco’s waist and pulled him flush against his front, holding him close.

“Yes,— Sir.”

Draco’s response barely qualified as a hushed whisper and Harry smiled. He pressed a lingering kiss to the side of Draco’s neck and delighted in the little tremors he could feel surge through Draco as he shivered — not because he was cold but because his anticipation of the unknown was rapidly growing in the pit of stomach and spreading out through the rest of his body, exciting him, filling him with the curiosity to find out more and desire to simply surrender to whatever Harry had planned for them both for the rest of the afternoon.

“Good. Will you give me your wand, my little prince?”

Draco inhaled sharply at the question but did not hesitate for more than a few seconds. He hadn’t yet sheathed his wand and when Harry let his hand glide over Draco’s, he simply let go and it slipped out of his hand and into Harry’s.

“Thank you, my love. Thank you for trusting me.”

“Always, Sir,” Draco whispered.

Another shudder surged through him.

Harry pocketed Draco’s wand and as he slid it into his jeans pocket, he tightened his hold on Draco, hugging him very close.

“Sweet one.”

He murmured the words directly into Draco’s ear, exhaled slowly, then nibbled on his earlobe, something that had become a favourite pastime of his.

“I want to play with you, will you let me?”

Another tremor.

Draco shifted in his embrace and Harry noted how the toes of his bare feet curled into the carpet.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Hm, you are delectable, sweet one. Thank you for your permission. Will you also allow me to take you apart? I want to break you in the best possible way. I want to give you an unforgettable memory, I want to drive you wild, repeatedly. By the time I’m done with you, I want my name to be the only coherent thought that will fall from your lips. Is that something you would like me to do?”

Draco mewled in his embrace, swayed dangerously and Harry continued to nibble on his earlobe. His hot breath ghosted over Draco’s ear, part of his cheek and the side of his neck and Draco shuddered and trembled.

“Please, Sir.”

A faint whimper fell from Draco’s lips, a sweet plea to accentuate his verbal one and Harry smiled softly.

“Say that again, those words sound ever so precious when they fall from your beautiful lips, my little prince.”

“Please, Sir.”

There was no hesitation whatsoever.

Draco whispered the words immediately and Harry hugged him a little tighter. In fact, he hugged him so tight that Draco had absolutely no wriggle room left. He didn’t seem to mind and he did not tense; he simply relaxed into the firm embrace, clearly relishing in Harry showing his possessive side which only made Harry want to show it even more.

“I’m going to have so much fun with you, sweet one, we’re both going to enjoy this afternoon immensely.”

Draco made a delectable sort of sound.

It was neither a whimper nor a whine but something somewhat indescribable that was a little bit of both and it was music to Harry’s ears — he wanted to hear more of it, preferably for the rest of the afternoon.

“Turn around, my love.”

Harry kept his voice low and with a husky undertone. Loosening his hold on Draco just a little bit, he allowed him to turn around and face him. His cheeks had pinked, he’d parted his lips ever so slightly, and his eyes had darkened several shades and were now a dark and stormy grey. Harry pressed one hand to Draco’s chest, felt his rapid heartbeat and made a soft shushing sound.

“I’ll keep you safe, my little prince, you know that, don’t you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Draco inclined his head but steadily held his gaze and Harry smiled.

“Good. I’ll take such good care of you, my love.”

Harry brought his hand up, caressed Draco’s cheek, then ran his thumb over his lips and applied a little bit of pressure. When he dropped his hand, Draco exhaled and looked at him from under lowered lashes, the silent plea evident in his eyes.

“Are we—? Will you—?”

He struggled to phrase his question and Harry brought his hand up again and placed a single finger, his index finger, across Draco’s lips.

“Ssh, you trust me, don’t you, my little prince?”

Draco nodded.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good boy. Then just relax and let me be in charge, just like you always do. I promise you’ll enjoy what I’ll do to you. You’ve been so helpful all afternoon, doing your bit to tidy the house and I know you enjoyed it too. Thank you for being such a good boy, my love, you deserve a really big treat and I have just the right idea.”

Draco whimpered and momentarily closed his eyes. Harry removed his finger from Draco’s lips and replaced it with his mouth. He kissed Draco; softly, gently, enticing him to play along and he didn’t have to ask twice. They shared an unhurried kiss for several long minutes and when Harry attempted to pull away, Draco chased his lips.

Ordinarily, he would have chided Draco for being greedy but this time, Harry indulged him and they kissed for another few minutes before Harry resolutely withdrew and took a step back, just for good measure. Draco got the message and he neither chased his lips nor did he take a step forward to bridge the small gap between them.

“Will you give me your hand, please?” Harry asked.

He held his hand out to Draco, who looked at him with a rather dazed expression, then slowly lifted his right hand and placed it in his.

Harry squeezed it gently, then tugged on it, pulling Draco out of the room and up the stairs.

They walked slowly, in no hurry to get to their destination and Harry was extraordinarily pleased by the fact that Draco always remained a step behind him, even though he hadn’t asked him to do that.

They eventually made it up to the fourth floor and walking over the threshold to their playroom, Harry turned around, cupped Draco’s cheeks, and gave him a tender kiss. He then took several steps back and gave Draco an appreciative once-over, delighting in the way Draco simply stood there, allowing him to look, allowing him to feast his eyes on his favourite man.

“Strip,” Harry instructed.

He made sure to keep his voice soft and gentle and with a wave of his hand, he closed and locked the door to the playroom.

It had been several months since he’d last seen Draco flinch at hearing the faint clicking of the lock but this time he did. However, Draco still slowly twisted his fingers into his figure-hugging long-sleeved blue shirt and gradually pulling it up, he dragged it over his head. It mussed his hair up but Draco paid it no heed.

Instead, he merely shook his head, letting his soft blond locks cascade down all around his face. He folded his shirt neatly and placed it on a plain wooden chair by the door. Harry had placed there for exactly that purpose.

With the shirt gone, Draco undid the top button and zipper of his jeans. He eased the denim trousers off his hips, pushed the garment down his long lithe legs and pulled it over his feet, then folded it neatly and placed it on top of his shirt on the chair. Finally, he made short work of his boxer briefs, a simple black pair with an elastic band that had the words _I belong to Harry James Potter_ stitched into it — a present from Harry from several months ago.

These days, Draco only wore the boxer briefs, Harry had gifted him and Harry had added to the collection, making sure that Draco had a choice between several different colours. He’d felt sorely tempted to entice Draco to wear a pair of black lace panties but he was sure that they weren’t quite there yet and now was not the time to push Draco’s other boundaries. They were working towards a different goal and Harry did not want to distract Draco from it.

He watched as Draco, for just a moment, he toyed with his underwear, then he folded it neatly and placed it on the chair.

Harry smiled.

“That’s my good boy. Let me have a look at you.”

Draco blushed but didn’t move. He simply stood straight, his arms dangling at his sides, his head slightly lowered but not enough that he was unable to take in the way Harry was looking at him. Harry deliberately drank in every inch of him, then stepped closer.

“You’re beautiful, my little prince,” he whispered.

Draco blushed harder and his cheeks went from a deep shade of pink to a deep shade of red.

“Look at you, my sweet boy, you love it when I praise you, don’t you? You’re being so good already, just standing there, letting me take a good look at what’s mine. You belong to me, don’t you, my love? You’re mine, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Draco exhaled the words, rather than speaking them and Harry smiled.

He caressed Draco’s cheek, trailed a single finger along the side of his neck and his collarbone and down his arm. Draco shuddered but stood perfectly still and feeling bold, Harry teased his chest with his fingertips, grazed his nails over Draco’s nipples and delighted in feeling them harden beneath his touch. He rubbed over them, then pinched them between his thumb and index finger, and twisted a little.

Draco let out a breathy little moan and Harry trailed his fingertips down Draco’s stomach, feeling the muscles quiver and contract beneath the skin. He ran his fingers back up Draco’s torso, then slowly stepped behind him and teased his way down the centre of Draco’s back, right along his spine. Draco shuddered and Harry drew an infinity symbol on his lower back, then let his finger slide along the crack between Draco’s buttocks but never pressed firmly enough to breach.

Draco whimpered softly and Harry let his fingers ghost over Draco’s arse, teasing the pale skin relentlessly. He stepped a little closer and kneading one of Draco’s arse cheeks, he wrapped his other arm around Draco, trapping him in a possessive embrace, then pulled him flush against his body to let him feel the coarseness of his clothing against his bare skin.

Harry pressed several kisses against the side of Draco’s neck and all over his collarbone, alternating between gently nipping on it and sucking it into his mouth. Draco exhaled audibly, a content sort of sigh, and Harry smiled against his neck.

“You’re so beautiful, just perfect, my love,” he murmured.

Draco keened and Harry tightened his hold on him, squeezing and just generally being overly possessive. He let his hand trail down Draco’s front, found his cock and toyed with the half-hard flesh, not quite stroking it, yet teasing it affectionately and fondling his balls. His touch was a soft, barely-there kind of caress. It wasn’t enough to satisfy, far from it, but it was enough to arouse and entice and judging by the soft whimpers that kept falling from Draco’s lips, Harry was succeeding.

“We’re going to have so much fun together, my little prince. I’m going to really take you apart. You’ll remember this one for some time. It’ll be sizzling hot and slick and you’ll love every second of it. I promise you; I’ll have you begging me before long.”

“Sir—”

“Yes, my love, let your imagination run wild with you, I want you burning with desire, hot with anticipation and dripping with need.”

Harry continued to build up Draco’s arousal, teasing him with words. He thoroughly enjoyed playing with Draco’s mind, twisting it, turning it, and bending it to his will.

Draco always responded to his voice, to his words, to his filthy promises and his sweet praise.

Over the last month, they’d played an awful lot. Sharing a roof meant that Harry didn’t have to show any restraint when it came to Draco. Their sex life had always been maddeningly intense but throughout these past four weeks, they really hadn’t held back. They both hadn’t seen a reason to.

Draco’s journal entries were most definitely a contributing factor.

It had taken him a while to get into it but once he’d lost his inhibitions, and he’d gotten into the spirit of things, he wrote often and a lot.

Some entries were short, some several pages long.

All of them were entertaining on some level.

There were funny notes, angry rants, a ton of sass, and Draco’s thoughts about their scenes along with heartfelt confessions and sweet love notes. Depending on when he made his entry, some of his thoughts were a delicious mess and others were carefully thought-through while yet others were a plea for more of the same.

These past few weeks Harry had made sure to push Draco deep with several intense scenes but had also kept things light and easy and very much playful during other scenes. So far, it had been the perfect mixture between light and intense, a little bit of everything.

Apart from the times they played, Harry also found endless reasons to shag Draco senseless and he was sure that they were close to having christened every surface in the house several times over. The kitchen had become a preferred spot for impromptu rough sex with Draco often ending up bend over the kitchen table with his trousers yanked down just far enough for Harry to fuck into him, repeatedly and hard and until Draco groaned while Harry held him down, sometimes restraining his arms behind his back and sometimes ordering him to hold on to the table and not let go.

They’d christened the living room several times over and their bedroom, while occasionally a premise for kinky play, usually remained reserved for intense, heated love-making that lasted for hours and left them both as breathless as an intense scene.

Harry smiled.

He kneaded Draco’s arse cheek a little firmer, then pulled his hand away and raising it into the air, he brought it down with a loud smack.

Draco yelped, then whimpered and Harry rubbed the flat of his hand over Draco’s arse, prolonging the sting for a few seconds.

“I want to turn your arse red; I want to make it throb; I want to make you feel my hands all night long.”

Draco whimpered some more and Harry pressed a kiss to his neck, kissed the warm skin, then sucked it into his mouth and bit down on it. He continued sucking and Draco moaned and tilted his head sideways, giving him slightly better access.

Harry slowly pulled away.

“Good boy,” he praised.

Draco’s moan turned into a long low whimper. Harry returned to kneading his arse and still teasing Draco’s cock and fondling his balls, he whispered an array of filthy promises into Draco’s ear, then sucked his earlobe into his mouth and bit it. Draco exhaled audibly and Harry lifted his hand up and smacked Draco’s arse again.

“ _Ngh_!” Draco exclaimed.

Harry landed the third blow and then a fourth. He rubbed over the slowly reddening skin, then kissed Draco’s neck.

Eventually, he Stepped back in front of Draco, cupped his flushed cheeks, and kissed him deeply.

“You’re precious, my little prince.”

Draco blinked, staring at him with a thoroughly dazed expression, then swallowed hard.

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Hm, I like it when you’re this polite and sweet, you really do know how to please me, don’t you, my love?”

“I try, Sir.”

Draco’s response was shy and he blushed crimson, then averted his eyes. Harry let him get away with it but only for a minute, then he cupped Draco’s chin and forced him to look up and straight at him.

“You know how to please me, my little prince. You do it well.”

Draco’s eyelids fluttered and he smiled softly, coyly.

It made Harry’s heart both flutter and skip a beat.

“Thank you, Sir.”

Harry reciprocated the smile.

“Will you do something for me, my little prince?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Harry let a minute of silence pass between them, then instructed Draco to kneel, which he did without hesitation.

He gracefully sank to his knees, sat back on his haunches and with his head submissively lowered, he moved his hands behind his back and crossing his wrists, he let them rest against his lower back, just above his firm buttocks.

“Beautiful, just beautiful.”

Harry praised him freely — he didn’t think there would ever come a day where he would grow tired of Draco’s response to his praise and smiling, he ran his fingers through Draco’s hair, massaging his scalp softly.

After a moment or two, Harry tore himself away from Draco and stepped back. He headed over to one of the black chiffoniers to retrieve something — a special little gift he’d acquired for Draco.

Since he always made sure to keep all of his toys and accessories in order and knew exactly where what was, Harry had no trouble locating the item he was looking for and clasping his fingers around it, he lifted it out of its drawer and let it slide closed. Before returning to stand in front of Draco, he pulled another drawer open and retrieved a midnight blue silken blindfold, which he, for now, concealed inside his jeans pocket. He ran his fingers through Draco’s hair, then prompted him to look up and at him.

Draco slowly lifted his head and with a smile, Harry showed him a brand-new handmade collar, made of incredibly soft wild leather. It was midnight blue, double-layered and consisted of two stripes of about three-centimetre wide delicate natural material.

At the front, an O-ring, adorned with sparkling blue sapphires, connected the two leather stripes. The design of the O-ring wasn’t suitable for the attachment of a leash but it was perfect to snuggly rest against Draco’s throat once Harry put the collar on him.

At the back, there appeared to be no discernible lock but when Harry explained that it sealed with magic and required a spell, synced to his magical signature, to unlock, Draco’s eyes momentarily glazed over — he clearly liked the idea of a magic spell keeping the collar locked and in place. Of course, Draco safewording would also result in the collar coming off but that was the only way for Draco to get the collar of himself.

For a second, Harry felt just a little devious and he contemplated making Draco beg for the collar, then decided against it and bending forward, he captured Draco’s lips in a slow and tender kiss.

Drawing the kiss out over several minutes, he deepened it and teased his way into Draco’s mouth, massaging his tongue with his own. He let his fingers run through Draco’s hair and let his hand rest at the nape of Draco’s neck.

When he finally pulled away from the kiss, he was pleased to note that Draco, though it seemed to cost him a great deal of effort, did not chase after him in a silent bequest to continue the kiss. He held perfectly still and caressing Draco’s cheek; Harry smiled.

“My precious little prince,” he whispered. “I’m going to make you feel so good. You want that, don’t you? You want me to make you feel good, am I right?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“That’s my good little prince, you’re perfect today.”

Harry smiled and slipped the collar around Draco’s neck, connected it at the back and drawing an ancient rune onto Draco’s shoulder blade, he mumbled the incantation that sealed the collar into place. Harry made sure that the collar wasn’t too tight, then caressed Draco’s cheek tenderly, and blew him a kiss when Draco leant into the touch, slow-blinked at him and hummed in silent approval.

“Thank you, Sir,” he murmured.

“Mine!”

Harry spoke with assertion, showing Draco with the tone of his voice alone that for now he was in charge, that Draco had no say in what they did, how they did it, when they did it and for how long they did it — well, he did have a say, he could always end the game or ask Harry to go slower but that was about it.

“Mine to play with, mine to take apart, mine to drive wanton. Mine, mine, mine, always mine.”

Draco smiled softly but didn’t blush. He did, however, lower his head in silent surrender and directed his gaze to the floor.

“Yours, Sir,” he whispered.

“Perfect manners,” Harry commended.

He crouched down and cupping Draco’s chin, he lifted it up a little, wordlessly enticing Draco to make eye contact with him.

“Are you ready, my love?”

Draco, unable to nod properly, blinked once.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Hm, just delectable,” Harry said.

He pulled the midnight blue silken blindfold out of his jeans pocket and showed it to Draco, who inhaled sharply. His first reaction to seeing a blindfold was usually one of mild apprehension and some trepidation about what was to come but up until now, he’d never refused to wear a mask to cover his eyes. Harry doubted Draco would refuse this time — for that the blindfold was too pretty.

It was handmade from luxurious midnight blue textured silk and lined with the dreamiest crepe-de-chine backing. Black diamonds and silver shade Swarovski beads lined the edges of the mask — it was a truly beautiful piece of art. The black diamonds reminded Harry of Draco’s coal-black pupils and the silver shade Swarovski beads, which sparkled even in low light, reminded Harry of Draco’s silvery-grey eyes. They, too, sparkled when Draco lay his emotions bare and only showed how he felt.

Harry let the soft cool fabric slide over Draco’s warm naked body and gave him a few moments to acclimatise, then leant in to kiss him, stealing his breath away as he passionately claimed Draco’s mouth and duelled his tongue, never quite allowing it to gain the upper hand but always enticing it to continue trying.

“Will you wear the blindfold for me, my love?” Harry asked some moments after withdrawing from fiercely kissing Draco and simply watching the way his chest rose and fell as he tried to regulate his breathing.

Draco, still too breathless to speak properly, nodded and took a few deep breaths, then expressed his consent verbally.

“Yes, Sir, yes, I will,” he said.

His voice was soft and low and the complete lack of sass, or the desire to be even just a little bratty, made Harry’s heart flutter and he smiled.

“Good boy. I promise you won’t regret your choice.”

Harry gently pressed a lingering kiss on Draco’s forehead, then placed the blindfold over his eyes, adjusted it here and there, and tied it at the back with a big diaphanous bow. It gave the silken mask a rather dramatic drape and pressing his cheek to Draco’s, Harry whispered directly into Draco’s ear. His warm breath tickled the sensitive shell and Harry felt him shudder before he’d even spoken the first syllable.

“Thank you for this precious gift, my love, I’ll keep you safe.”

“I know, Sir.”

“Your trust in me is exquisite, my little prince, I love you so much.”

Draco mewled softly and Harry rose to his feet, then instructed Draco to do the same but reminded him not to remove his hands from behind his back.

Harry helped Draco to his feet, then slowly guided him across the room and over to the large four-poster bed. He positioned Draco in front of the bed, then stepped behind him and closing his fingers around Draco’s wrists, he squeezed them tightly. Draco winced a little but he neither lifted his head nor shuffled his feet. Harry uncrossed Draco’s hands and slowly guided them to the footboard of the bed, gently forcing him to bend forward and brace himself on his arms.

Once he was in position, Harry nudged Draco’s feet, spreading them about thirty inches apart. He then kneaded Draco’s shoulder’s gently and ran his palms down Draco’s back, making sure to graze the nails of his thumbs along his spine; one thumb on the left side, the other on the right.

Draco let out a low whimper and Harry smiled, then cupped Draco’s buttocks and squeezed. Harry pushed his thumbs into the crack and pulled those gorgeous pale cheeks apart, exposing Draco’s hole and rubbing over it with the tip of his left thumb. It fluttered and flexed beneath his teasing touch and Draco let out a low moan.

Harry grinned but didn’t otherwise react. He remained completely silent and instead of continuing to tease Draco, he took a step back and admired Draco’s pose. He looked beautiful with his hands wrapped around the footboard of the bed, his head still submissively lowered and his feet spread apart to guarantee easy access to every part of him.

“You’re so beautiful, my little prince.”

Draco first let out a soft little whine, then followed up with actual words.

“ _Ngh_ , thank you, Sir.”

Harry took another step forward and running his hand up and down Draco’s back and along his arms, he caressed every inch of him that he could comfortably reach, except his arse and his cock. He did, however, make sure that Draco could feel his hardness press against his bare arse, giving him an incentive to wonder about just what Harry had in mind.

After a while, Harry stopped touching Draco quite so much and slowly withdrawing, he pressed a kiss right between Draco’s shoulder blades, then told him that he would be right back.

Draco nodded and Harry made his way across the room to fetch a pair of leather wrist cuffs and a matching set of ankle cuffs — they, too, had been handmade from soft pliable wild leather and were midnight blue in colour. Combined with the blindfold and the collar, Draco was currently wearing, they made up a complete set — a special commission, Harry had ordered for Draco and, of course, entirely without his knowledge.

Leather cuffs in hand, Harry walked over to another chiffonier and retrieved several pieces of neatly coiled midnight blue jute rope. Each piece was different in length and gathering them all up, Harry nudged the drawer shut. He returned to Draco’s side and quietly placed the cuffs and the bondage rope on top of the bed, then squeezed Draco’s shoulder reassuringly. He kissed the top of his arm, and caressed his cheek, then picked up one of the wrist cuffs and slipping it around one of Draco’s wrists, he fastened it expertly. He did the same with Draco’s other wrist and then crouched down to slip the pair of ankle cuffs in place.

With each cuff, Harry made sure to leave them loose enough to prevent injury but tight enough to make it impossible for Draco to slip out of them.

Once all the cuffs were in place, Harry picked one of the shorter pieces of rope and slowly uncoiling it, he threaded one end of the rope through one of the wrist cuffs’ D-ring, effortlessly found the bight, and fashioned a beautifully twisted arm sleeve all the way up Draco’s left arm. He did the same with Draco’s right arm, always making sure that the rope wrapped tightly around Draco’s pale skin and the knots dug into the flesh, not enough to hurt but enough for Draco to feel the burn sooner rather than later.

Harry briefly admired his handiwork, double-checked each knot, then grabbed two pieces of slightly longer rope and crouching down, he repeated the process on each of Draco’s legs, creating a knotting pattern that matched Draco’s rope arm sleeves perfectly.

Finally, he reached for longest piece of jute rope and uncoiling it, he took his time to create a stunning Hishi Karada rope dress with diamond twist knots, pulling and tying the rope tightly into place as he wound it around Draco’s upper chest, his stomach, his hips, between his arse cheeks, and along either side of Draco’s cock and his balls.

With each knot and with each tug, Draco let out a small gasp but he never once shuffled his feet, spoke, or asked Harry to stop or loosen the rope. Harry could tell that he’d already begun to drift, losing himself in the sensations of feeling the rope slither around his body before Harry pulled and knotted it into place.

Harry expertly tied the loose ends of the rope from Draco’s arms and legs into the rope dress, making it look like he’d fashioned the entire knotting pattern with one long piece of rope — it looked like he’d used magic to disappear the eight ends of rope but he hadn’t. He was simply that good with a piece of rope and creating elaborate knotting patterns was something Harry could do in his sleep. Pleased with the result of his efforts, Harry inspected his masterpiece, making sure that nothing was out of place. He then gently placed his hand on Draco’s back, just between his shoulder blades.

“You look stunning, my precious little prince, you look absolutely stunning.”

Harry whispered the words directly into Draco’s ear and nibbled on his earlobe. He delighted in the way Draco gasped and exhaled slowly, then inhaled deeply, trying to draw as much air as possible into his lungs to feel the tightness of the ropes against his torso.

“How do you feel, my love?”

“Wonderful.”

Draco breathed his response; his voice barely qualified as a whisper, it was just a gust of wind floating through the room, filling it with sound.

“ _Harry_ — Sir. This— it’s— thank you.”

Harry smiled and gently massaged Draco’s scalp.

“You’re welcome, my beautiful bound little prince. I’ll have to show you this memory later, you have to see yourself like this, sweet one, you’re perfect, just perfect.”

Draco mewled in response and Harry ran his fingers along the rope, tracing every line, every twist, and every knot. His fingertips brushed along Draco’s pale skin every so often and the more time he took to tease, the louder Draco gasped.

Occasionally, he let out a low moan and Harry positively delighted in feeling Draco tremble underneath his innocent touch.

He watched, mesmerised, how Draco repeatedly filled his lungs to the brim with air, purposefully allowing his ribcage to struggle against the tightness of the ropes which were by now burning into his skin and would be leaving marks behind. Marks, Harry was sure, Draco would still be able to see and feel tomorrow morning.

He smiled to himself and continued to gently tease alongside the ropes, slowly but steadily setting Draco’s body on fire. Harry let his fingers slip between Draco’s buttocks, pressed the two strings of the rope firmly against Draco’s hole and rubbed along the sensitive skin, then reached around and fondled Draco’s balls. They were heavy and tight and Harry massaged them gently, teasing them until Draco let out a low, long moan. He then stroked Draco’s cock, fisting him slowly and with a barely-there kind of touch that had Draco begging for more soon enough.

“Shush, my little prince, there’s no use in begging. I’m not done with you; I’ve only just started to play with you, my precious boy. You’re going to have to last much longer than that.”

Draco moaned and whimpered and Harry teased the head of Draco’s cock with his thumb, running it around the head and stimulating the sensitive skin.

“Please, Sir, please.”

“Not a chance, sweet one.”

Harry remained firm and withdrawing his hand, he pulled Draco’s wand out of his jeans pocket and wrapped his fingers around the hilt, holding it comfortably. It didn’t resist him whatsoever and smiling, Harry held the tip of Draco’s hawthorn wand to the side of his neck and applied gentle pressure.

Draco immediately gasped in response.

Harry didn’t have to ask to know that Draco could feel not only his own wand’s magical core buzz gently against his skin but also Harry’s. It flowed through Draco’s wand, slowly setting Draco’s skin on fire and with a low chuckle, Harry pulled back and gently trailed the wand down Draco’s spine, making him shiver.

Leaning over Draco, Harry briefly forced him to support some of his weight and pressing his lips to Draco’s ear, he whispered his next words, seductively purring them against the sensitive skin of the shell of Draco’s ear, teasingly tormenting him with his words.

“Do you think it’ll still obey my command, my love? After all, it did once before. Just like you do now and you do it so perfectly, it takes my breath away. I want you to remember this, my beautiful bound little prince. After tonight, you’ll never look at your wand the same way again. After tonight, every time you wrap your fingers around your wand you’ll remember today and how you voluntarily surrendered yourself and your wand to me, my sweet darling. You’re mine, Draco Malfoy.”

Draco shuddered and whimpered and focusing his magic, Harry concentrated and touched the tip of Draco’s wand to the ropes that kept him bound. He gently channelled his magic through the wand’s magical core and cast a wordless spell, directing a mild warming charm to heat the ropes. The spell flowed through the ropes, spread out over the intricate knotting pattern and Draco moaned and shuddered. He wriggled around a little, but his current position and the fact that he was tightly bound into ropes didn’t exactly leave him with a lot of room to move.

“Harry— _ngh_ , Harry—”

A breathless little moan escaped past Draco’s lips and filled the room.

“What is it, my love? Are you feeling a bit hot?”

Harry let out a low chuckle and Draco groaned.

“Ngh, _please_.”

“Please _what_ and please _who_?”

“Please, Sir, please, _ngh_ —”

“What is it you want, my love?”

Draco whimpered and Harry massaged his scalp, then trailed his wand down his spine, sending another wave of warmth through the ropes that cocooned Draco and kept him bound and in place. Harry was quite certain that Draco didn’t know what he wanted or if he did, he was past the point of articulating himself coherently, which suited Harry just fine.

He sent a third wave of warmth through the ropes and then a fourth. Small beads of sweat started to form all over Draco’s body and Harry waited a while to cast the fifth wave. Instead, he stroked Draco’s cock, teasing it mercilessly, reducing him to a moaning and panting pile of goo, no longer in full possession of all of his mental faculties and most definitely not able to provide a lengthy answer about what he wanted but certainly still able to safeword out of the scene, should he wish to do so.

After a fifth wave, Harry immediately followed up with a wave of cold and Draco shuddered and whimpered.

For the next twenty minutes or so, Harry sweetly tormented Draco by rapidly firing hot and cold spells through the tight midnight blue jute ropes — which looked absolutely stunning against his pale skin — and Draco fruitlessly wriggled against his restraints, shuddered, and shivered and moaned and groaned and yelped.

Harry let Draco’s wand dance over his body, casting spell after spell, never giving Draco the chance to guess what might come next: hot or cold.

Draco moaned and whimpered and several desperate pleas fell from his lips when Harry suddenly stopped and simply placed his hand on Draco’s lower back, gently letting it rest there and finally giving Draco a moment of respite to catch his breath.

Then, and when Draco least expected it, Harry directed the tip of Draco’s wand towards his arse and whispered the incantation to the variation of a stinging hex. A fiery red light flowed out of Draco’s wand and Harry directed it to land on Draco’s arse with a loud smack and about the same level of pain as a firm strike with a riding crop. It was well within the range of pain, Harry knew Draco could accept, however, what with his current, already altered state of mind, he was hesitant to subject Draco to any more pain until he knew for sure.

“ _Ngh_ , ow, fuck, _ngh_ , oh fuck—”

Draco panted hard and Harry rubbed his arse cheeks gently, massaging the reddening skin softly, tenderly.

“Such a potty mouth,” Harry said and clicked his tongue. “Was that too much?”

“ _Ngh_ , no, Sir, no, it wasn’t. I’m okay.”

“Do you want more?”

Draco whimpered and his desperation practically dripped thickly from his words, slowly pouring into the room like golden sticky honey.

“Yes, Sir, yes, please.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Well then, who am I to deny you.”

Harry smiled to himself, silently commending Draco for his bravery, then readied Draco’s wand and struck him with yet another customised version of a stinging hex — the original wasn’t exactly suitable for play, at least not the kind of play Harry knew Draco could take. A proper stinging hex, that level of pain was the kind of sting only a proper painslut enjoyed and Draco wasn’t one and would never be one.

Just as the spell struck Draco’s arse, the ropes on his left arm loosened, slowly slithered down to his wrists, and then slid to the floor, pooling there in a messy pile.

Draco groaned in response to the strike and giving him a few moments to ride out the lingering sting, Harry massaged his arse gently and admired the reddened skin all over Draco’s arm; imprints left behind by the rope he’d bound him with.

Harry traced the marks gently with his fingertips, told Draco that he was beautiful, and Draco whimpered softly, then yelped and let out a low scream when Harry delivered the third strike. The ropes around Draco’s right arm loosened, slowly slithered down to his wrists, and then slid to the floor, pooling there in a second messy pile.

After the fourth strike, which was a quite a bit gentler than the first three, the ropes that wound themselves around Draco’s left leg fell off him and after the fifth strike, the ropes that wound themselves around Draco’s right leg, also fell off him.

Harry caressed Draco’s arms and his legs with his fingertips, then gently trailed Draco’s wand along the length of them and soothed the skin with a gentle cooling charm.

Draco whimpered and a choked sob escaped his throat.

In response, Harry placed his free hand on top of Draco’s and squeezed gently.

“You did so well, my love, I’m very proud of you. I’ll remove the last bit of rope by hand, no more magic.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Draco whispered softly, sounding breathless.

Harry slipped Draco’s wand back into his jeans pocket and very slowly began to undo the knots that held the diamond twisted rope dress, which covered Draco’s torso, in place. He took his sweet time, gently and with a great deal of care, removing the tight ropes. As he slowly pulled them away, he caressed and soothed the red imprints, using a very gentle wandless cooling charm. He let it wash over Draco and when he finally removed the last bit of rope and let it slide through his fingers and onto the floor, Draco’s knees buckled and gave in, however, Harry reacted with the precision and speed of a trained Seeker.

He scooped Draco up, not only pulling him into his arms and into a firm hug but also lifting him off the ground and into his arms.

Draco mumbled something incomprehensible and chuckling softly, Harry kissed his sweaty forehead. Draco let out a strangled sort of sob and wept in his arms, clearly just a little overwhelmed. Harry didn’t begrudge him the need to express himself so freely and shed a few tears. What they’d just done had been only vaguely sexual but it had still been intense and moans and whimpers were no longer cutting it — Draco needed to properly relieve himself of all the things he felt.

“I’m right here, my sweet prince,” he murmured.

Walking around the bed, Harry gently placed Draco on top of the black silken bed covers and squeezing his hand gently, he repeatedly reassured him, promised him that he wasn’t leaving but that he would stay right here by his side.

It took several minutes before Draco fully calmed and Harry waited patiently, holding his hand. Once he relaxed and calmly lay on top of the bed, still blindfolded, of course, Harry made short work of his own clothes and climbed up onto the bed. He wrapped his limbs around Draco, pulled him flush against his body and gently caressed every inch of Draco’s body that he could comfortably reach. He kissed him, rubbed his palms over Draco’s red and throbbing arse and spoiled him with a ton of praise and sweet nothings.

After a while, he eased Draco onto his back and straddling his hips, he pulled four short sets of thin silvery chains from underneath one of the pillows. He took one chain and hooking one end into the D-ring on the leather cuff on Draco’s left hand, he connected the other end to the headboard of the bed, then took a second chain and restrained Draco’s right hand in the same manner.

Harry kissed him gently, then moved to restrain his ankles to the footboard. The chains gave Draco a little bit of wriggle room but they mostly assured that he lay on the bed, spread-edged and completely exposed. Harry ran his hands from Draco’s toes, up his feet, along his legs, over his hips, his stomach, and his chest to his shoulders, then up his arms to his shoulders and neck.

“I’ve got something really special for you, my sweet little prince. Can you take a little more?”

Draco nodded, parted his lips, and licked them with the very tip of his pink tongue.

“Words, my love,” Harry reminded him. “Can you take a little more?”

“Hm, yes, Sir,” Draco breathed.

Harry smiled and placed two tender kisses on top of Draco’s blindfold, one over each eye. Draco mewled and gasped and Harry captured his slightly parted lips in a mind-twisting, breath-taking, and fiercely possessive kiss.

When he pulled away, Draco was completely breathless and his chest rose and fell rapidly as he fought to soothe the burn in his lungs.

Harry gave him a moment to adjust and, in the meantime, he slipped his hand underneath one of the other pillows on the bed and retrieved a medium-sized glass bottle of massage oil. He unscrewed the cap slowly and took a whiff. The contents of the bottle smelled of truly divine and Harry momentarily felt a little lightheaded yet strangely enough also alive, focused and very aroused.

Handmade, entirely free from chemical properties, and infused with cold-pressed aromatherapy essential oils such as lavender, clary sage, vetiver, ylang-ylang, sweet almond, and pure jojoba the massage oil was hydrating and rich in Vitamin E and bound to leave Draco’s already soft skin feeling even softer and very sensuous.

“My sweet little prince, I’m going to make you feel so good and you’ve got to do absolutely nothing but lie here and allow me to spoil your rotten.”

Harry bent forward, braced himself on the bed and whispered the words right into Draco’s ears, then allowed him to smell the contents of the bottle. Draco inhaled deeply and Harry smiled.

“Just enjoy, my love, you’ll like this, this treat is exactly right for you.”

Draco whined softly and wriggled on the bed, then let out a soft sigh. The black silken sheets were cool against his marked and hot skin and aware that he was about to make a colossal mess, Harry gently tipped the bottle over and began to slowly drip the warm oil into Draco’s palms, the inside of his forearms and his upper arms. He then let the bottle float in mid-air and began to gently massage Draco’s hands, first one, then the other.

Harry let his slippery hands slide underneath the loose leather cuffs and massaged Draco’s wrists, easing some of the tension out of them. He gently massaged Draco’s forearms, his upper arms, his shoulders, added more massage oil, and soothed his chest, teasing his nipples by applying varying degrees of pressure and twisting them around a little before finally grazing his nails over the hard nubs.

Conscious of Draco’s internal organs, Harry applied very little pressure to his stomach, massaging it taut skin and tight muscles with great care. Dripping yet more oil onto Draco’s skin, Harry gripped his hips, squeezed, and delighted in Draco’s soft whimpers, low sighs, shaky breaths, and little purrs.

“You like that, don’t you, sweet one?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Hm, yes, you really are my little prince, aren’t you? You love it when I spoil you and pamper you and take really good care of you.”

“ _Ngh_ , yes, Sir. Yes, please. _Ngh_ , Harry.”

“You’re precious, I love hearing all your needy whines and desperate pleas. I love that I can twist your mind with a gentle touch, drive you wild with a sweet sensual massage. Tell me, my little prince, are you having a good time?”

“Yes, Harry.”

Draco whimpered and dripping some more oil onto his body, Harry coated his fingers in the slippery thick liquid and letting his hands slide slower, he teased and caressed Draco’s half-hard cock, stroking it until it hardened under his touch and Draco’s tiny little whimpers turned into low moans.

Harry used the oil instead of lube and drizzling a lot more onto Draco’s cock and balls, he slid his fist up and down Draco’s cock, teased the overly-sensitive head, blew hot and cool air over it and watched it twitch. He fondled Draco’s balls, massaged them, and pressed two fingers against his perineum, finding the spot, he knew would stimulate Draco’s very responsive prostate. He even teased around Draco’s hole, pressing against the muscle but never breached it.

When Draco was seconds away from exploding all over his hands and himself, Harry pulled away and instead of allowing Draco to come, he coated his thighs with plenty of massage oil and worked the tension out of Draco’s left thigh, then returned to edging him and when he was close, Harry simply turned his attention to Draco’s right thigh.

Draco pleaded and begged and Harry ignored him but kissed him deeply and hungrily which left Draco even more desperate.

“My game, my rules, my sweet little prince,” Harry whispered in his ear.

Draco moaned and pleaded.

“Sir, please, I need— I need— I— please, let me come, please.”

“No. Not a chance. There’s no use in begging, I won’t give in.”

Draco howled with frustration and Harry chuckled softly, pressing a chaste kiss to his thick, wet, kiss-swollen lips. He let his hand slip down Draco’s body and stroked his cock slowly, hardly applying any pressure and Draco groaned.

“Please, Sir, please—”

“Hush, my desperate needy little prince. If you’re not quiet, I’ll have to resort to summoning a gag.”

Draco pressed his lips together and whined.

“That’s much better, my love. I know you can do this; you can be good for me. There’s a time and place for those things and it’s not when I’m spoiling and pampering you.”

Despite reprimanding him, Harry kept his voice soft and gentle, playful even. He smiled throughout and it showed in the tone of his voice and when Draco whined and tugged on his restraints, he peppered his face with kisses, then continued to massage the rest of Draco’s legs, his calves, and his feet. Unable to resist, he tickled Draco’s soles a bit and Draco giggled and snorted before starting to laugh in earnest.

“ _Ngh_ , Harry, no, please, tick— ticklish— so— _ngh_ , argh, so, f— _ngh_ , Harry, please, Sir.”

Draco chortled and tried kicking his legs but because Harry had restrained him, he was unable to gain any traction. Harry chuckled along with him, then abruptly stopped, and patiently waited until Draco relaxed and calmed down. He ran his oil-coated fingers up Draco’s legs, slipped them underneath his arse and kneaded the firm buttocks, which he knew were red and sore from the earlier stinging hexes, he’d hit Draco with.

Harry added a little more oil, then let his fingers slip in-between Draco’s arse cheeks and teased his fluttering hole. He pressed a slippery finger against it and wasn’t surprised when it slipped past the tight ring of muscle and halfway inside. He wriggled it around a little, then pulled back and thrust in again, repeating the movement several times over.

Draco moaned and tried to push down on Harry’s finger but Harry smacked the inside of his thigh, effectively squashing that idea. He worked his finger deeper into Draco, found his prostate and rubbed over it, then teased his cock, stroking it slowly, barely satisfying Draco’s desire for Harry to touch him properly and to bring him over the edge so that he could lose himself in his orgasm.

“Be good for me, my little prince and I’ll let you come.”

Harry whispered the words into the room and Draco nodded, panting breathlessly.

“Yes, Sir. Yes, I will—” he said eagerly and Harry smiled.

He continued to fingerfuck Draco’s hole, rubbing against his prostate and summoning a bottle of lube, he flicked the lid off, poured a generous amount onto his own cock, then worked some into Draco. The oil and lube and Draco’s sweat, as well as his own, had soaked through the bedsheets but right now, Harry couldn’t care any less. He was hard and desperate and waving his hands, he undid Draco’s ankle restraints, then made Draco bend his legs at the knees, pushed his thighs apart and slipping his hands underneath Draco’s arse, he lifted him up a little, adjusted his position, then pushed the head of his thick hard cock against Draco’s hole, slowly breaching it.

Draco hissed and huffed out a breath of air, then let out a low moan.

“ _Ngh_ , Harry—”

He whimpered a little and Harry squeezed his arse to distract him a little from the intense burn, but continued to push his cock further into Draco. He did it slowly but didn’t stop until he’d sheathed his cock completely inside Draco’s tight channel and his balls rested against Draco’s arse. Only then did Harry grant him a moment of respite and leaning over him, he captured Draco’s lips in a sensual and slow kiss.

“You feel so good all tight around my cock, my sweet little prince. I love burying my cock inside your arse, I love fucking you, I love filling you with my come.”

“ _Ngh_ , Harry, please, please, please.”

“Please _what_ , my little prince?”

“Please fuck me, please.”

“With pleasure, my little prince.”

Harry smiled and capturing Draco’s lips in yet another kiss, he unfastened the blindfold and pulled it off his eyes, carelessly tossing it aside. At the same time, he pulled halfway out of Draco, then thrust right back inside and repeated the action several times over.

Draco groaned into the kiss and tried arching his back but couldn’t really get anywhere which left him feeling frustrated and he moaned and squirmed underneath him. Harry pulled back a little and watched as Draco blinked several times, trying to adjust his vision.

“Well, hello there, beautiful.”

Harry smiled.

“I missed your gorgeous eyes, my sweet little prince.”

“ _Ngh_ , thank you, Sir, thank you for letting me look at you.”

Draco’s whispered thanks made Harry’s heart flutter and kissing him, he slowly set a steady rhythm, unhurriedly fucking into Draco, repeatedly filling him with his cock and brushing against his prostate. He murmured a little more filth into Draco’s ear, kissed the side of his neck, nibbled on the sweat-slick skin, sucked it into his mouth and bit. Draco yelped and moaned and at the same time. Harry let his hands slide along Draco’s arms, laced their fingers together and firmly pressed Draco’s hands into the mattress.

“The pleasure is all mine, my gorgeous boy.”

Harry smiled and he kissed Draco again, then thrust a little harder, a little faster, a little more insistently.

Even though he felt just as desperate to come as Draco did, and he hadn’t edged himself several times over, Harry didn’t really rush things along too much. He enjoyed the slow built up of their fucking, enjoyed that he had complete control over Draco, and most definitely enjoyed being able to look into his eyes while he fucked him.

“My precious little prince, you’ve been so good today, you’ve been wonderfully submissive all weekend, you’ve been helpful, you surrendered your wand without asking, you let me bind you in ropes, you let me tease you, spoil you, edge you, deny you. I’ve enjoyed every minute of playing with you, sweet, sweet Draco.”

Draco blinked, mewled and although his flushed face was already a delightful shade of deep pink, he still managed to blush crimson red. His eyes glazed over, his eyelids fluttered and just like that he was gone, completely lost, floating in a world of his own.

Harry smiled, kissed him gently, then drove into him in earnest, repeatedly claiming Draco’s arse and enjoying every moment of it. He thrust hard, stimulated Draco’s prostate as much as he could and when he could feel his own orgasm build somewhere low in the depths of his groin and slowly roll out through his crotch, spreading out and washing over him, he let go of Draco’s hand and wrapped it around Draco’s cock instead. He grabbed the hard and throbbing flesh firmly and did his best to stroke it in time with his thrusts, working Draco right to the very edge.

He held Draco right there, a second away from tipping over and falling and as his own orgasm washed over him and as thick spurts of his come filled Draco’s tight slick channel, he finally granted him permission to come. His words effortlessly pulled Draco over the edge and he came hard, exploding all over Harry’s hand, making even more of a mess of them both and the bed.

Harry still didn’t care. He lost the will to hold himself up and falling forward, he just about managed not to fall on top of Draco but rolled slightly to the side inside. They’d thoroughly soiled the bed; it was messy, wet, and sticky but all Harry did was to tiredly wave his hand to disappear the leather cuffs around Draco’s wrists and ankles and banish them to the floor. He pulled Draco into a tight embrace, hugging him close and holding him as they both came down from their incredibly high.

It took Harry a good ten minutes before he felt coherent enough to try to speak although one look at Draco told him that his little prince was nowhere near coming down any time soon. He was most definitely still floating and content to let him, Harry cast a quick cleaning charm over himself and Draco, then ran his fingers through his hair and massaged Draco’s scalp gently.

Draco hummed softly and a loopy grin spread across his face. Harry smiled, kissed his nose, then proceeded to whisper a whole lot of sweet nothings into Draco’s ear, praising him and reassuring him that he was safe and could just continue to let himself go.

Half an hour past and Harry simply lay next to Draco, holding him tight as he drifted in and out of sleep and his altered state of mind. Every now and then, he opened his eyes, smiled, or mumbled something incomprehensible and Harry always responded with a gentle touch or a sweet kiss. Eventually, however, he forced himself to get into gear and climbing out of bed, he stretched a little, surveyed the epic mess and shuddered but decided to take care of Draco first.

He lifted him off the bed, carried him into the playroom’s en-suite bathroom, gently sat him down inside the empty bathtub and used warm water and a sponge to clean him properly. It took a while to get the rest of the massage oil off Draco but he finally succeeded, towelled Draco dry and effortlessly carried him down to the third floor where he tucked him into what Harry had come to think of as their bed.

Draco was barely coherent, more than half asleep and had no objections to Harry putting him to bed and tucking the blanket around him, like a parent might do with a small child. Harry kissed his forehead tenderly and Draco mumbled something that very much sounded like _I love you, Harry_.

Smiling softly, Harry sat down on the edge of the bed and running his fingers through Draco’s hair, he kept him company for another few minutes, then stood up, stretched, and crept out of the room, closing the door behind him. He paused in the corridor, stretched again, and yawned. He, too, wanted to nap but he had to clean up first and not bothered with climbing one flight of stairs, Harry apparated straight into the playroom, retrieved his and Draco’s wand and set about cleaning the place.

Once he’d sorted everything, he grabbed a quick shower, washed his hair, and after drying himself, he lazily flopped down on the freshly made play bed, curled around a pillow, and promptly fell asleep.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're curious about the rope dress that Harry creates, you can google the Japanese name and you'll find pictures, just be aware that most will probably be sexually explicit in nature, which is why I haven't uploaded one for your viewing pleasure.


	70. Not Your Ordinary Dinner For Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I previously said, this chapter used to be a part of Chapter 69 but since they are both so long it makes more sense to split them apart. Hope you enjoy this one too.
> 
> Love,  
> Selly x

* * *

Draco slowly drifted out of dreamland, regaining consciousness and a vague awareness of his surroundings. Unwilling to open his eyes just yet, he stretched luxuriously and rolling onto his front, he moaned into the pillow. A tender sort of soreness lingered in his arms and legs and his buttocks still throbbed a little.

He moved his hand behind his back and squeezing his buttocks gently, Draco whimpered softly and for a minute or two, he revelled in the persistent tenderness of the firm flesh. He twisted onto his side and suddenly aware of Harry’s collar, still snuggly sitting against his throat, he brought his hand up and touched his fingers to the soft wild leather.

A smile spread across his lips and he let out a content little sigh, rolled onto his back and slowly opening his eyes, he blinked a few times, yawned, stretched a little more, then stared up at the canopy of Harry’s bed…their bed. He lived here now, he still lived here.

Harry had made it quite clear that the place belonged to him as much as it belonged to Harry and over the past month, he’d found a million and one ways to show Draco how much he loved having him around all the time. In return, Draco relished in doing his fair share of keeping the house in order and oftentimes it didn’t feel like a chore he had to complete because keeping a household in order required fulfilling certain tasks. No, it gave him a sense of purpose to cast the one or other cleaning spell or do things by hand.

In the kitchen, he always resolved to do things the Muggle way. It simply didn’t occur to him to use magic to speed up the process and a few times, especially after a stressful day at work and when Harry was working late, he’d found himself doing the laundry by hand, taking his time to wash, clean and dry Harry’s and his own clothes.

He’d even gone as far as ironing Harry’s work shirts and whereas a little over ten years ago the idea of doing his own laundry would have sent him running for the hills, it now provided him with an opportunity to focus and forget about the world for an hour or two. The look in Harry’s eyes, whenever he found him doing housework, never ceased to amaze him. There were love and adoration, of course, but there was also the kind of look Harry gave him when they played, the one that was supposed to remind Draco who was in charge, who enforced the rules.

He hadn’t yet managed to find a way to voice his thoughts about how it made him feel when Harry praised him for doing housework or cooking them a delicious meal but he yearned for Harry to give him those tasks, to make him a list of things he expected him to complete and to make it perfectly clear that there would be repercussions if he didn’t meet his deadlines and didn’t have a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why he’d been unable to do so.

Draco knew that he would have to be the one to ask for what he wanted. He knew Harry wouldn’t be the one to suggest the list of tasks, couldn’t be the one to do it, because he didn’t know what it was that Draco wanted to feel more fulfilled. Draco supposed he could simply make his request as part of a journal entry but he had yet to find the right words.

Their initial, and agreed upon, four-week-long trial run of living together had expired a little over a week ago but Draco hadn’t felt the need to point that out to Harry and apparently Harry hadn’t felt the need to point it out to him either.

It was scary how quickly they’d managed to become attuned to one another — they’d had a very close bond long before Harry had offered him to temporarily move into Grimmauld Place but once they’d started to, on a daily basis, share the same roof, the same bed, the same shower, and the same dinner table, there was a whole different level of intimacy to their relationship.

Draco suspected that part of that was due to the journal he’d started to keep. Harry religiously read every entry and often commented on them. Sometimes it was an offhanded little comment over a shared meal, sometimes it was a suggestion while they snuggled on the sofa and watched television or read their respective books, and sometimes it was a lengthy discussion over a glass of wine, several cups of coffee, or an extended stroll through one of London’s many parks.

With that level of closeness, Draco didn’t feel like he had to keep anything from Harry — certainly, some things were easier to reveal than others but there was always that knowledge, that unfaltering believe that there was nothing that he could say, no matter how foolish it felt to him personally, that would make Harry ridicule him. He did not doubt that Harry appreciated his honesty.

Draco stretched once more and pushing the duvet down to his mid-chest, he spread across the bed, like a starfish. He stared at the canopy for another few minutes, then, feeling the distinct urge to empty his bladder, kicked the covers away, sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He sat there for a moment and glanced around the room, then spotted his wand on his nightstand and beside it a note, addressed to him.

He reached for his wand, wrapped his fingers around the hilt and closing his eyes for a minute, he remembered how Harry had used it to drive him wanton with lust and how he’d managed to fill him with such deep desire and longing to simply be Harry’s that he’d barely been able to contain the intense emotions that flooded him. Even now that playtime was over and he’d had a long nap, thinking back over their scene made Draco go weak at the knees.

Putting his wand down again, Draco reached for the note instead and unfolding it, he instantly rolled his eyes.

> _  
> Draco—_
> 
> _As you now know, I don’t always use Expelliarmus._
> 
> _Sometimes a polite question does the trick, doesn’t it, my little prince?_ _😉_ _Although that sort of disarming technique is one, I reserve for very special people only and currently, you are the only special person I’ve enticed to surrender their wand to me. I do hope it remains that way._
> 
> _You were perfect this afternoon — I loved every second of playing with you. There’s nothing quite as stunning as seeing you on your knees for me or binding you in my ropes. You make my wildest dreams come true, my love._
> 
> _Thank you for being simply marvellous._
> 
> _I love you. Very much._
> 
> _You’ll undoubtedly still feel a little sore so I want you to have a nice long shower, please. There’s also a phial with some mild pain-numbing potion waiting for you on the counter in the bathroom. Please take it._
> 
> _I’ll have dinner ready for us whenever you want to join me downstairs._
> 
> _Love,  
>  _ _H x_

  
Draco read Harry’s note twice and although a part of him wanted to scoff at it, especially at Harry’s cheeky comment about disarming him, the sweetness of Harry’s letter decidedly distracted him. He could feel Harry’s love for him radiate off the page and he also felt how much Harry cared for him.

Then there was that decidedly dominant order about having a shower and taking some pain-numbing potion. Sure, it was an order but it was so achingly sweet that it made Draco’s heart flutter.

A part of his mind was still floating and despite his lengthy nap, he hadn’t quite fully come down yet. As such, he could feel the desire to be sassy about Harry’s note but he couldn’t quite bring himself to execute it. After dinner, perhaps.

Draco sat on the edge of the bed for another minute, then put Harry’s note back down onto the nightstand and got to his feet. He stretched one last time and moved across the room and into the bathroom, entirely unbothered by the fact that he was still naked as the day he’d been born.

He emptied his bladder, flushed the toilet, then moved to the sink to wash his hands but as he caught his reflection in the mirror, he paused for a second, then smiled.

Harry had left several bite marks on his neck and the accompanying bruises were a deep shade of purple.

Draco washed his hands, dried them, then gently brought his cool fingertips to one of the bruises and pressed a single fingertip against it. A dull sort of pain flared out from the centre of the bruise and hissing a little, Draco withdrew his finger and taking a step back, he looked at himself, properly looked at himself.

Rope burns covered his entire chest and both his arms and a glance down at his legs confirmed the existance of even more precious marks. The irritated skin was red and stood out beautifully in contrast to his pale skin. It looked so stunningly beautiful that Draco barely managed to tear his eyes away from the marks Harry had left on him. He knew they’d fade in a matter of days, Harry never left him with permanent marks, but for now, they were fresh. They still hurt and Draco still felt sore and owned and it was the best feeling in the world.

He gently trailed his fingertips up his arms, sighed and then touched the burns that covered his chest, his hips, and his thighs. The marks throbbed and as his mind provided him with the memory of what it had felt like to be bound tightly in Harry’s unrelenting jute ropes the soreness in his body increased. It was a security blanket of the sweetest kind. Despite being unable to move and despite the tightness of the ropes, they made him feel like nothing bad could possibly happen to him. He felt safe from harm, secure, and free to let himself go completely.

> _  
> **I own you.** _
> 
> **_You’re mine._ **

  
Harry’s words floated in Draco’s mind and he shuddered. He closed his eyes and basked in the pain of the rope burns. It wasn’t more than a dull ache, a constant but lingering reminder of Harry’s power but he felt encased in it and he wanted to savour the feeling for a moment longer.

He knew that the pain-numbing potion would only relieve some of the soreness and when he finally reached for it and uncorked the phial, he was prepared to let some of the post-play feelings go. He downed the potion in one go, shuddered at the taste of it, then deposited the empty vial in the bin and turning on his heel, he pulled the door to the large shower room open and stepped inside.

Disinclined to use magic, Draco adjusted the water temperature by hand, stepped under the powerful jets of water and closing his eyes, he simply let the hot wetness cascade down his body, washing away the last remnants of his lingering tiredness. The mild post-play discomfort never quite went away and Draco took his time to wash himself and his hair.

He still wasn’t completely sure what time it was but when his stomach started to demand food, he switched the water off, stepped out of the shower and reaching for the fluffiest towel, he dried his body slowly and carefully, then his hair.

An unexpected knock on the bathroom door somewhat startled him but knowing that it was Harry, he simply replaced the towel on the rack and turned around to find Harry, dressed in a pair of loose midnight blue jeans and a plain but snug-fitting white long-sleeved shirt, casually leaning against the doorframe.

He smiled.

“That collar can’t possibly be comfortable anymore,” he said.

He pushed himself away from the doorframe and walking into the bathroom, he trailed a single finger up Draco’s right arm and along his collarbone where Draco felt him draw the outline of an ancient rune.

He shuddered and took a step closer. Harry’s other hand rested low on his hip and he squeezed gently, then mumbled a spell and the soft midnight blue wild leather collar, now soaked in water, fell away.

Harry caught it expertly and placing it on the counter next to the sink, he rested his damp palm against Draco’s cheek.

Draco pushed into the touch and hummed. He felt rather naked and exposed without the collar and closing his eyes, he sighed when Harry kissed him, gently at first, then with just enough insistence to pry his lips apart and deepen the kiss. Draco surrendered to the kiss, simply let go, and revelled in the sensations. When Harry pulled away after several minutes of solid snogging, Draco bemoaned the loss.

Harry smiled.

His hand left Draco’s hips and taking half a step back, he pushed his hand into his jeans pocket and retrieved another collar, wordlessly offering it to Draco. This one, also made from soft wild leather, was light grey in collar and the shiny silver O-ring that connected the two stripes of leather, sparkled in the bright bathroom light.

Reaching out, Draco tentatively ran his fingers over the collar and sighed. It felt soft against the tips of his fingers and he could already imagine it snuggly sitting against his neck, a gentle but constant reminder that Harry was in charge.

“Please,” he whispered.

The soft-spoken plea slipped past his lips before he had the conscious thought of stopping it and Harry’s smile intensified. His emerald-green eyes beamed with the sort of warm radiance that set Draco’s heart on fire, made it flutter wildly and rather unpredictably. He lowered his head a little and when Harry locked the collar into place with an unknown ancient rune and a mumbled wandless spell, he let out a sigh, then looked up at Harry and smiled softly, coyly.

“Thank you, Sir.”

“You’re welcome, my little prince.”

Harry caressed his cheek, pulled him into another kiss, then withdrew and summoned a green square-shaped bottle filled with thick liquid aloe.

“It’ll soothe the burns, make them heal faster.”

It wasn’t exactly what Draco wanted, he’d rather Harry’s marks healed slowly, wanted to keep them for longer but since he knew that he’d never win that argument, he didn’t even bother to try to convince Harry not to lather him in cool aloe.

Instead, he turned his back on Harry, braced himself on the marble counter on either side of the bathroom sink and lowered his head a little. He spread his legs and when Harry slowly began to rub the aloe all over his arms, chest, back, buttocks, thighs, and the rest of his legs, he merely closed his eyes and sighed softly.

“You’re beautiful, do you know that, my little prince?”

Draco hummed in response.

Harry’s warm chuckle reverberated around the marble-tiled bathroom and Draco smiled to himself. Something inside his stomach repeatedly insisted on doing summersaults and when Harry’s hands massaged the aloe into the inside of his thighs, soothing the rope burns there, he couldn’t help but let out a little moan.

Still decidedly overwhelmed from their earlier scene, the lengthy nap, post-play haze, and the intimacy of Harry’s touch, Draco felt his body react. His groin flooded with arousal and tightened, his cock twitched and filled out and his balls suddenly ached for attention. His mind felt foggy and his thoughts refused to settle but drifted from one thing to the next.

“Turned on again, my love?”

Harry whispered the question directly into his ear and Draco shivered and sighed.

“Yes,” he breathed his response.

He felt Harry’s well-lubricated hand close around his semi-hard cock and whimpered.

“Harry, please.”

Quiet laughter teased the shell of his ear and Harry stroked his cock, teasing it to full hardness.

“I really shouldn’t you know. I think you had more than enough fun for one afternoon, my sweet little prince, but for once I can’t resist those rope burns. I can’t resist you either, I don’t even want to try, you truly are a sexy divine creation.”

Draco felt Harry’s hot breath ghost over the sensitive skin that covered his ear, felt him kiss his earlobe and mewled.

“Fuck, Harry, please, please, please.”

He begged shamelessly and this time Draco didn’t even blush. He simply let his desperate pleas fill the bathroom and shuddered and whimpered and a bubble of amusement slipped past Harry’s lips.

“No need to beg me, my love, I won’t stop. Come whenever you feel like it. This is not play, this is just pleasure, your pleasure.”

Harry’s strokes increased in intensity and speed and Draco felt Harry’s other hand caress his balls, squeeze them, roll them around the palm of his hand. Something big exploded deep inside his groin and his knees buckled a little. He thrust forward, thrust into Harry’s fist and when he stilled his strokes, Draco continued to slide his cock in and out of Harry’s hand, fucking it in earnest.

The idea to top hadn’t occurred to him in a very long time, he hadn’t even remotely felt the desire to bring that conversation up with Harry but right this moment he felt like he was in charge. He felt like Harry was allowing him to use his hand, to fuck his fist for his own pleasure and curling his fingers tightly, Draco groaned.

He felt Harry’s other hand release his balls, felt his fingers tease along his perineum and slip towards his hole. They were slippery and the soft teasing touch against the fluttering muscles that made up his sphincter felt utterly divine.

Draco whimpered and let out a long moan. He thrust harder and when two of Harry’s fingers breached him and slid inside of him, he barely managed to contain his desire to explode all over Harry’s hand. Those fingers teased his prostate and stimulated a different kind of orgasm altogether.

“ _Ngh_ , fuck, so good.”

Draco, albeit feeling more than a little incoherent, managed to somehow express his enjoyment and Harry’s warm lips against his ear sent a jolt of pleasure zapping down his spine.

“Enjoying yourself, Malfoy?” he teased.

Draco groaned.

Harry’s sassy undertone drove him wild and he thrust harder still, determined to bring himself off. He wasn’t sure whether Harry was just playing with him and while a part of him expected Harry to stop the fun at any moment, Draco didn’t manage to rein in his desires. He let them grow and spiral right out of control and several minutes later his arse, entirely out of his own accord, clenched tightly around Harry’s fingers and his prostate throbbed and pulsed, sending him flying over the edge of his first orgasm. He rode it out and fervently trying to catch his breath, he lost himself in the pleasant tingle all over his body, the sweet aftermath of the intensity of a prostate orgasm.

Sometime later, he wasn’t quite sure how many minutes had passed but he was still floating, his cock began to throb and pulse and his balls tightened considerably. Harry had withdrawn his fingers from his arse and was massaging his balls expertly, rolling them around in his palm and squeezing them.

Draco’s entire groin area tightened and groaning loudly he was grateful for the fact that Harry stood right behind him because he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to remain upright once his second orgasm hit him.

He was so close to falling over the edge that he groaned with relief when Harry took over again and stroked his cock, stroked it hard and stroked it fast.

Draco’s hips continued to jerk forward and his knees buckled and before he knew it, his orgasm hit him square in the chest and barely able to fill his lungs with enough air, he came, spurting what he knew to be thick ropes of his come all over Harry’s hand.

He was certain that some of it had landed on his own leg and even the floor but too tired to concern himself with such petty thoughts, he slumped forward and he was grateful when Harry caught him and pulled him into a tight embrace.

“That shower you just had was entirely useless, my little prince.”

Draco laughed breathlessly and slowly straightening up, he relaxed into Harry’s embrace, then slowly turned around and perched himself on the cool marble counter.

“Deviant Potter, you should legally change your name to that.”

Harry grinned and winked.

“I love it. Not sure how it will sound like when you moan it in the throes of your passion but I’m all for it.”

Draco rolled his eyes and inspected Harry’s soiled clothes. There was aloe on them, and water from his damp hair and possibly even a little bit of his come, though how that had gotten there he did not know.

“I think you need a change of clothing,” he said, very much stating the obvious.

“Third one today.”

Harry grinned and making short work of his shirt, he pulled it over his head and tossed it into the wash basket. Draco, unable to resist, reached out and let his fingers run down Harry’s chest. His tanned skin stretched tightly over his hard muscles and Draco loved the way they flexed underneath his innocent explorative touch.

He gently pried Harry’s fingers away from his jeans.

“Please let me.”

Harry shrugged and letting arms drop to his sides, he relented.

Holding Harry’s gaze, Draco undid the top button of Harry’s jeans, pulled the zipper down and felt the hotness of Harry’s throbbing erection through the thin fabric of his black boxer briefs.

He smiled.

“You’re hard.”

Harry nodded and Draco eased the loose jeans off his hips, pulled them down his legs and sinking to his knees, he helped Harry to step out of them, then tossed them across the room, levitating them straight into the wash basket with the help of a little wandless magic.

He ran the palms of his hands up Harry’s calves, delighting in the coarseness of the dark hair that covered Harry’s legs, and looking up at him, Draco licked his lips and rested his hands on the outside of Harry’s hips, just above the waistband of his underwear.

“I want to return the favour, Sir, please let me,” he said, his voice low and soft, a little pleading even. There was most definitely a whiny undertone to it and Harry smiled down at him.

Draco felt his Harry’s thumb rest against his lips and parting them, he let the digit slip into his mouth, felt it press down on his tongue, and closed his lips around it and hummed.

He held Harry’s gaze expectantly and waited. Draco wanted to ask again but with Harry’s thumb gagging him he couldn’t articulate himself.

Several minutes past but eventually Harry moved his other hand and pulling his boxers down just far enough to release his hard cock, he offered it to Draco, who swallowed it greedily and sucked the hot pulsing flesh deep into his mouth.

Harry’s fingers wound themselves into his damp hair and Draco moaned, opened wider and took Harry’s cock as deep as he possibly could. Harry did not offer any guidance but instead let him have free rein over the situation. Draco used it to his advantage and applying every single trick in the book, he gave Harry the perfect blowjob. He teased him for just the right amount of time, sucked, hummed, and licked and let Harry’s cock slip down his throat, eagerly swallowing most of his length. He loved how his lips stretched around Harry’s cock and how his hips would jerk forward every so often when he couldn’t quite resist the urge to thrust forward anymore.

It didn’t take long to bring Harry close to the edge and just before he fell over it, Draco pulled away and replaced his mouth with his hand. His strokes were hard and the speed fast and when Harry groaned and his cock twitched and started to drip with precome, Draco opened his mouth and felt Harry’s hand wrap around his own, not so much guiding his strokes or helping along but strengthening their connection.

A short while later, Harry exploded and his come splashed all over Draco’s tongue, lips, and a part of his face. He swallowed whatever he could, then gently suckled Harry dry and sitting back on his haunches, he looked up at Harry, entirely unconcerned about the fact that he had Harry’s come all over his face.

He smiled goofily and reaching for Harry’s hand, he squeezed it gently.

“Thank you, Sir.”

Harry let out a low growl, pulled him to his feet and kissed him hard. It was a possessive kiss and it robbed Draco of the last bit of breath he’d left inside his lungs — not that he had a problem with that.

He loved how tasting his own come on his lips and inside his mouth seemed to make Harry even hungrier. Draco let Harry push him back into the shower — despite being distracted with kissing him senseless, Harry somehow managed to remember to temporarily remove his collar as to avoid it getting soaked too — where they snogged for most of the time that the hot water cascaded down over them.

It took a whole half hour of inappropriate kissing, touching, hugging, and silly laughter before they were finally dry and dressed.

Post-shower and given that it was evening time, Harry slipped into a pair of loose cotton tracksuit bottoms, black in colour, and a black t-shirt that proclaimed a Muggle band named Queen were the champions. Draco could neither deny nor confirm that statement but it amused him all the same and patiently sitting on the edge of their bed, he waited for Harry to hand him a pair of his favourite black briefs, a matching pair of black loose cotton tracksuit bottoms and a plain dark green long-sleeved shirt.

It wasn’t glamorous attire at all but Draco didn’t care. It was comfortable and after this afternoon’s intense scene and their earlier bathroom shenanigans, the last thing he wanted was to put on socially accepted clothes when he had no intention of leaving the house until he absolutely had to which wasn’t until Monday morning when work called.

Until then, Draco was more than happy to lounge about the house in leisure clothing or his birthday suit, or whatever else Harry wanted him to wear or not to wear.

“I’m starving,” Draco said when they both slowly made their way downstairs.

“I made chicken casserole and green string beans.”

“Please tell me there’s dessert!”

Harry laughed, took his hand, laced their fingers together, and squeezed.

“Of course, there is dessert, sweet tooth.”

Draco rolled his eyes and scoffed which earnt him a firm smack on the arse. He yelped and promptly held on to the handrail to avoid possibly stumbling down the remainder of the stairs.

“What’s for dessert?” he asked.

“You’ll find out after you’ve been a good boy and finished a plate of the main course.”

Harry answered his question with a stern undertone and a piercing look in his emerald green eyes. Where a year ago such an answer might have annoyed him, it now sent a pleasant shudder trickling down Draco’s spine and smiling coyly, he nodded.

Harry rewarded him with a warm smile and reached for this hand. They descended the last flight of stairs together and Draco automatically attempted to turn left and head for the kitchen but Harry stopped him and nudged him towards the dining room instead.

Draco frowned mildly.

“We never eat in the dining room when it’s just the two of us,” he said.

Harry chuckled.

There was a cheeky sort of twinkle in his eyes.

“Ah, but tonight we do, my little prince.”

Draco felt his frown deepened.

“Special occasion?”

Harry shook his head.

“I thought you might appreciate a candlelight dinner for two, that’s all. After all, you’ve been very good today and good boys deserve rewards, loads and loads of rewards.”

Draco couldn’t quite stop the smile that spread across his face and neither did he want to. He felt it turn into a proper grin and when Harry stopped him at the closed door to the dining room and pulled him into his arms, he relished in their kiss and melted against Harry’s warm body and into his embrace.

“Whatever game you’re playing, Potter, it’s working,” he said, then buried his face in Harry’s neck and kissed the bare skin he found there.

Harry ran his hand up and down his spine and chuckled softly.

“I’m not playing any game, my little prince, I’m just spoiling you.”

Draco hummed and even though he was hungry, he couldn’t bring himself to pull out of Harry’s embrace. He wanted to stay right there, preferably for all eternity.

“Before we go in, full disclosure, there are burning candles on the table. Are you going to be okay with that?”

Draco nodded into Harry’s neck but instead of accepting that as an affirmative answer, Harry clicked his tongue.

“Words, my love, I’m going to need words.”

Draco pulled away a little and blinking, he nodded again.

“You know I’m fine around burning candles,” he said.

Harry smiled and when he caressed his cheek, Draco instinctively pushed into the gentle touch.

“And you know I like to make sure.”

“I know.”

Closing his eyes, Draco purred and pushed further into Harry’s touch, relishing in the sweet caress.

“Hm, look at you, you’re just a precious little kitten, aren’t you, my love? You love it when I spoil you rotten, don’t you, my perfect little prince?”

A tiny voice inside his head tried telling Draco that he should take offence because Harry had, once again, compared him to a cat but he couldn’t, not with all the will in the world, bring himself to object to the sweet praise that was falling from Harry’s lips.

He wanted all of it and feeling his cheeks heat, he slowly opened his eyes and looked at Harry from under lowered lashes. He wasn’t embarrassed as such but hearing Harry’s compliments always had that effect on him. It wasn’t a conscious reaction but one he’d learnt to accept and cherish. It helped that Harry didn’t generally abuse it by making him blush in public.

“Yes, Sir.”

The words came easy, the fell from his lips like sweet honey dropped from a honey dipper.

Harry smiled.

Draco felt his fingers slide through his hair and rest at the back of his neck as he pulled him in for a slow kiss, then took his hand and squeezing it gently, he opened the door to the dining room.

The room wasn’t brightly lid but its atmosphere took Draco’s breath away. Harry had turned the lights down low and a candle holder with seven long-stemmed white candles stood in the centre of the round table, which he had clearly shrunk to make it suitable for just the two of them. The warm low pitches of a cello filled Draco’s ears and the pleasant, clear, clean, and brilliant sound of a piano accompanied the human voice-like string instrument.

When Harry motioned for him to step into the room ahead of him, Draco had to inhale deeply before his feet obeyed him. He hadn’t bothered with shoes or socks, and neither had Harry, and promptly curled his toes into the thick soft carpet beneath his feet. He felt Harry’s hand rest low on his hip and squeeze it through the fabric of his trousers and exhaled.

“I feel underdressed, we should get changed.”

He whispered the words into the room and shuddered when Harry chuckled into his ear and as he felt his warm breath ghost over the shell of his ear, Draco shivered a little.

“Don’t be silly, you’re perfect the way you are,” Harry said.

Before Draco could come up with any further objections, Harry gently nudged him towards the table, pulled his chair out and offered him a seat. Knowing better than to object to that, Draco sat down and moved to cross one leg over the other.

Harry stopped him with a firm squeeze to his thigh and a click of his tongue.

“Don’t,” he whispered.

Distracted by Harry pressing his lips against his cheek and kissing him, Draco’s whimper caught in his throat and he licked his lips and swallowed hard.

Instead of crossing his legs, which Harry had just effectively forbidden him to do, he rested his hands on the table and lowering his head, he glanced down at his plate setting. While the food was under the protection of a Stasis Charm to prevent it from going cold, it smelt positively divine and looked utterly scrumptious. A bowl of thick creamy leek soup accompanied the main dish and next to the soup was a plate with two slices of soda bread and a piece of lush golden butter.

The flames of the candles flickered gently and reflected beautifully in the two full glasses of wine, Harry had poured for them and although Draco was dying to pick up his cutlery and start eating, he patiently waited for Harry to sit down across from him and pick up his wine glass.

“To us, my little prince.”

Draco smiled.

He raised his own wine glass and gently clinked it against Harry’s, making sure that his glass was slightly lower than Harry’s.

“Sir.”

Harry winked at him and grinned, then they each took a sip of wine and set their glasses back down. Draco watched as Harry waved his hand and ended the protective spells, he’d cast over the food. Harry motioned for him to start eating and he didn’t have to repeat himself. Draco’s stomach quietly growled and hastily reaching for a slice of soda bread, he covered it with butter and took a large bite.

“I feel like I’ve forgotten some sort of anniversary or something,” he said once he’d swallowed his first bite of food.

Harry’s hearty laughter echoed around the room.

“The anniversary of the first time you asked me to spank you.”

Raising an eyebrow, Draco looked unconvinced and biting back a sassy response, he took another bite of his soda bread and picking up his spoon, he began to eat his soup, humming in approval at its divine taste.

“You’re impossible.”

“Actually, I’m very easy to please,” Harry said with a dirty smirk.

He picked up his knife and tapping the blade against the side of his index finger, he mimicked a spanking and Draco’s arse cheeks clenched and throbbed. He huffed and deciding to ignore Harry’s playful digs, he continued eating and remained quiet until he’d finished his soup.

“You wouldn’t celebrate that anniversary with a candlelight dinner. You’d put me other my knee and double the number of strikes I got the first time.”

Harry laughed.

“In that case, we will most definitely celebrate the anniversary of your first spanking, however, in ten years’ time. I do want to have a little bit of fun with you.”

This time, Draco rolled his eyes but couldn’t quite stop the amused chuckle that bubbled up inside of him.

“I’m in for a treat then,” he said and picking up his fork he started to eat the main course.

An explosion of flavours immediately assaulted his tongue’s sensitive taste buds. The chicken was crispy on the outside but tender and juicy on the inside, the vegetables were the perfect mixture between crunchy and soft and the pasta had that typical Italian al dente bite to it. The creamy mushroom sauce had seeped into every corner of the dish and the string beans were perfectly chewy and fresh.

Draco let out a little hum of approval and smiled across the table.

“This is absolutely delicious, thank you, Sir.”

“ _Ngh_ , you precious thing, you don’t even know what you do to my sanity.”

“Compared to what you do to mine, it can’t be all that damaging.”

Harry remained silent but smiled one of his mysterious smiles in response.

They didn’t talk much for the rest of the meal but Draco most definitely caught himself staring at Harry any chance he got. He mostly tried to be subtle about it but he was quite sure that he was doing a terrible job at concealing his desire to look at Harry.

Their contract stated that he wasn’t supposed to look directly at Harry while they played, however, so far, Harry had yet to enforce that rule. He’d come close to asking Harry about it a few times but somehow, he always chickened out in the end. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but he cherished the fact that Harry let him get away with that small infarction and he wasn’t about jinx a good thing.

Strangely enough, it also made him try harder to obey Harry’s other rules and he couldn’t help but wonder whether that was Harry’s intention all along. He most definitely wouldn’t put it past Harry to pull such a stunt — it absolutely was his style to be _that_ devious.

After they’d finished their meal and Harry had refilled their wine glasses and banished their empty plates, bowls and dirty cutlery to a tray on top of the chiffonier by the door, Draco briefly wondered whether Harry wanted to talk about today’s scene but was thoroughly distracted when he got to his feet, rounded the table and placed two fingers under his chin, gently forcing him to look up.

Harry’s smile was warm and when he leant down to brush his hair away from his forehead and kiss it tenderly, Draco’s heart fluttered a little with excitement — they’d kissed a lot throughout the day but Draco absolutely loved it when Harry assertively took charge of the situation and spiced things up by suddenly doing something Draco hadn’t quite expected him to do. Harry’s hand rested on the table above his own and he squeezed it gently.

When Harry pulled away just a moment later, Draco leant back against his chair and quietly savoured the kiss. He smiled and blinked and quietly huffed out a warm breath of air.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

Harry whispered his instruction and Draco merely nodded. He watched as Harry left the room and feeling rather dazed, he sat in his chair, reached for his wine glass, and took a small sip, then sighed and let his eyes wander around the room. Harry had drawn the curtains closed but apart from the soft music, the dim light, and the candles, he hadn’t made any other changes to the room.

Still, it felt like they were celebrating something, only Draco had no clue what it was. It most definitely wasn’t an anniversary of some sort and although he felt tempted to ask again once Harry returned, he knew he wasn’t going to get a straight answer. He had already worked out that Harry expected him to wait to find out and he had the distinct feeling that any further attempt at trying to get Harry to reveal the reason for their elaborate dinner wouldn’t end with a sarcastic remark but a devilish punishment of some sort.

He didn’t have the chance to contemplate the matter any further because Harry returned with a tray and two ice-cream cups with chocolate chip ice-cream, vanilla sauce, and fresh dark cherries.

“A sweet treat for a very sweet prince,” Harry said with a smile and placed one of the ice-cream cups and a spoon in front of him.

He placed the other in front of himself and putting the now empty tray down on top of the chiffonier, he sat down and picked up his spoon.

“Do enjoy.”

Draco scooped up a large portion of the dark chocolate chip ice-cream and some of the vanilla sauce and parting his lips, he sucked the cold dessert off his spoon and smiled.

“This is amazing.”

“Hm, yes, I thought you’d like it.”

Harry smiled and instead of eating his own dessert, he dipped his spoon into Draco’s cold treat and offered it to him, holding his gaze as he did so.

Draco didn’t think twice and putting his own spoon down, he surrendered and allowed Harry to feed him the ice-cream. It suddenly tasted all the sweeter and he couldn’t quite stop the appreciative low moan that fell from his lips after Harry offered him a second spoonful of dessert, this time with a cherry on top. He chewed it slowly and when Harry reached across the table and silently asked for his hand, he placed his own in the palm of Harry’s hand and took pleasure in the innocent gesture.

Somehow, he felt like they were in a private room in an exclusive restaurant, eating the dinner of a lifetime and his heart fluttered and skipped a few beats here and there, while the butterflies in his stomach persistently flitted about, wreaking havoc with his feelings.

“I would like to ask you something, Draco,” Harry said after a moment of comfortable silence between them.

Draco inclined his head.

“Ask.”

“I think I already know the answer but I’d like to hear it from you. Do you like us living together?”

Draco blinked, swallowed, and took a moment to digest the question, then slowly nodded.

“I do. It’s— It’s— I was worried it wouldn’t work and that— that maybe— maybe we’d just fight all the time but— but— we’re— it’s— we’re working, aren’t we?”

Feeling just a tiny bit jittery, Draco couldn’t help but wonder why Harry had asked him the question, then recalled, as he’d done earlier just after waking up from his nap, that they’d initially agreed to four weeks, one month. That period was up, it had expired a little over a week ago and feeling foolish for believing that Harry wouldn’t bring it up, Draco pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and gnawed on it, worrying it until Harry clicked his tongue and told him to stop.

He reluctantly obeyed and staring down at his dessert, he wondered what Harry was going to say next.

“I wasn’t asking with the intention of telling you to move back to Notting Hill. I asked because I like having you here, Draco. I like it very much and I want you to stay if you’re willing. For as long as you want to, forever even if that takes your fancy.”

Draco’s mouth dropped open. He knew it was unbecoming but he couldn’t stop it. He gaped at Harry, stared at him with his eyes wide open and his jaw halfway to the bottom of his ice-cream cup. He was vaguely aware of the fact that Harry had gotten up and was moving his chair closer to him but try as he might he didn’t manage to unfreeze himself.

It took a squeeze of his hand and Harry’s palm gently pressing against his cheek to snap him out of his self-induced stupor and looking at Harry with a somewhat dazed expression, he tried to smile.

“I think I’m dreaming,” he mumbled.

Harry’s infectious laughter reverberated around the room.

“Asleep or not asleep, my question is still the same. Do you want to move in with me? Permanently? You can, of course, continue to keep the Notting Hill place; just in case there ever comes a time when you have enough of me and want to take a breather.”

This time, it was Draco’s turn to laugh.

“Maybe we should turn the Notting Hill flat into a proper two-storey BDSM playroom and keep his place vanilla.”

Harry chuckled.

“Never,” he said.

Draco grinned and when Harry offered him more ice-cream, he opened his mouth and wrapped his lips around the tip of the spoon in Harry’s hand.

“This is bribery, you know,” he said after swallowing the cold treat.

“Why do you think I’m doing it?”

“Deviant.”

“You wouldn’t want me any other way, my precious little prince.”

“True.”

“So, what do you say? Do you want a bit of time to think it over or have you already made up your mind?”

Draco held Harry’s gaze for a moment, then silently parted his lips and wordlessly requested more ice-cream. Harry spoon-fed him several bites and after chewing and swallowing the last cherry, Draco finally spoke.

“I want to stay. Here. With you.”

“Well, now that’s just the icing on the cake or the perfect ending to a wonderful afternoon with you,” Harry said with a massive grin and a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

He got to his feet and pulled Draco up along with him and straight into a fierce hug that knocked the air out of Draco’s lungs. Harry kissed him, passionately and possessively, and resting his arms on Harry’s shoulders, Draco kissed him back, just as ardently and with just as much fiery excitement burning in the centre of his chest.

They kissed until they were both breathless and when Harry pulled away, Draco was one again dazed but he still managed to string several words together to form a coherent sentence.

“I knew this wasn’t just an ordinary dinner.”

Harry threw his head back and laughed.

“It was an ordinary dinner; it was just an extraordinary dessert with an unexpected question.”

Draco shook his head.

“You, Harry Potter, are full of surprises.”

“Is that a good or a bad thing?”

“Both?”

Draco answered Harry’s question with a question of his own and they both laughed.

When they sobered up, Harry kissed him again and Draco melted against his body and relished in the warmth and closeness.

“I love you. So much.”

He whispered the words into Harry’s neck and kissed him softly, then mewled when he felt Harry’s fingers comb through his hair and massage his scalp.

“I love you too, my precious little prince. You are one of a kind, my special brand of wonderful.”

A little part of Draco thought that Harry was laying it on thick but his heart objected and excitedly skipped a beat. Draco called it a traitor and his brain promptly gave out to him. His own silliness made him chuckle and when Harry, instead of asking him why he was laughing, simply hugged him tighter, he inhaled deeply and let Harry’s unique sense bewitch his senses.

They stood like this, hugging, not talking, for several minutes, then Harry withdrew a little and cupped both his cheeks. He brushed his thumbs over his cheekbones and Draco blinked and hummed.

“I would like it very much if you could take care of the dishes for me, my love. I’ve got another little surprise for you in the living room when you’re ready.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Once again, the words fell from Draco’s lips without him having to consciously think about them and he lowered his head submissively. He felt Harry tenderly kiss the top of his head and slowly extracting himself from Harry’s loose embrace, he turned up the lights a little, extinguished the candles with a wave of his hand and began to clear the dining table.

He was aware of the way Harry watched him but didn’t let that distract him and when he, after a few minutes, wordlessly left the room, Draco only vaguely noticed that he’d gone. As he focused on his task, he couldn’t help but wonder what kind of surprise Harry had waiting for him in the living room but fervently hoped that it was a silly comedy and not another chat. He was starting to feel a bit drained, both emotionally and physically, and what he wanted most right now was to switch off, lie in Harry’s arms and focus on a film that didn’t require the use of his brain.

Today had started innocent enough with them both enjoying a lazy brunch at their café over in Notting Hill but it had most definitely taken an unexpected turn and while his long afternoon nap had absolutely helped to somewhat restore his energy levels, he still felt drained. This afternoon’s scene had been intense, their bathroom shenanigans thoroughly naughty, dinner delicious beyond comparison and Harry asking him to stay, to move in permanently, had truly blown his mind.

He truly hoped that they weren’t rushing things but he also wanted to live with Harry, desperately so.

Draco knew it was a mawkish thought but he wanted Harry’s face to be the first thing he saw in the morning and the last thing he saw at night.

* * *

 


	71. The Dirty Truth (Kink Me Up!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this chapter was ticked all the boxes for me. It was sweet and tender to write but there was also a huge element of fun to it, especially the first half of the chapter but, to an extent, also the second half.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this.  
> Thank you for sticking with me for so long.  
> It's been an epic journey.
> 
> Move love,  
> Selly x

* * *

“Found it!”

Stefan walked through the open doors of one of the private chill-out rooms at Pandora’s Box and looking positively triumphant, he placed a rectangular-shaped box in the centre of the table.

He picked up his bottle of beer, took a swig, and casually flopped down on the comfortable, worn, black leather sofa right next to Caleb, who automatically placed an arm around him and kissed his temple affectionately.

“Good job, darling.”

Stefan melted against him like butter in a pan on a stove and sneaking a sideways glance at Draco, Harry smiled to himself. He found himself remembering the way Draco’s cheeks had turned pink and how he’d become putty in his hand a little over an hour ago when he’d complimented him on his choice of outfit for the night.

The power of sub’s a praise kink never failed to astonish him. There was something truly beautiful about the genuine pleasure Draco derived from hearing him acknowledge that he was good, that he had done something right, or that Harry valued, cherished, treasured and loved him.

Seeing the way Stefan reacted to Caleb’s vocal appreciation of his efforts to ensure they’d all be having a good time tonight and how he snuggled against Caleb’s larger frame, almost hiding away at his side, though not because he was afraid but because he craved the warmth and comfort only Caleb could give him, warmed Harry’s heart. He was absolutely looking forward to a kinky night of fun surrounded by his peculiar bunch of friends, his adopted honorary brother, and the man he loved more than anything in this world.

He reached for Draco’s hand, pulled it onto his lap and squeezed it gently. Draco turned his head, tilted it sideways, held his gaze for a moment, then beamed at him. His silvery-grey eyes sparkled with excitement and Harry felt sorely tempted to hook his finger into the O-ring at the front of Draco’s collar, tug and pull him closer, right into his own personal space, and kiss him senseless.

For the time being, he suppressed the urge and watched as Draco turned his head away. He eyed the rectangular-shaped boardgame box, Stefan had fetched from the game room behind the club’s reception on the ground floor, with curious interest.

“ _Kink Me Up_ , a truly dirty game of truths and dares to spice up any evening.”

Draco read, then chuckled with amusement.

“Sal—”

Knowing what Draco was about to say, Harry reacted instantly and with the speed of a Seeker who had just spotted the Snitch or an Auror hot on the heels of a fleeing suspect. He squeezed Draco’s hand firmly and dug the nails of his fingers into Draco’s pale skin.

Draco yelped and bit his lip, looking slightly mortified about his own almost-slip-up but Harry reassuringly rubbed his thumb over the back of his hand, drawing several even circles, then found his pulse point on the inside of his wrist and caressed it softly. He didn’t need to look at Draco to know that he’d relaxed. He’d even found enough energy to be as sassy as he could be, drawling his sarcastic opinion in his typical aristocratic Malfoyesque manner, his voice cool and even.

“Well, this is interesting indeed. The last time I played anything like this I was 15 and still in school.”

Charlie laughed heartily.

“Malfoy, I assure you, this game is ten times kinkier than whatever you lot played down in the dungeons.”

“Dungeons?”

Caleb frowned, posing his question with great intrigue and a thoroughly curious expression on his face.

Charlie coughed. His eyes darted around the room and eventually settled on Harry.

“Erm—”

Harry cut in to bridge the awkward moment and distracted Caleb with a question.

“Remember the boarding school up in Scotland I attended and Draco too?”

Caleb nodded.

“I do. You mentioned it was a castle. I still think you were spoiled snobs, rich brats who, strangely enough, turned out quite OK.”

“Hey!”

Charlie objected and crossed his arms over his chest, pretending looking rather displeased and doing a very good job at being convincing.

“I went to the same school and I’m anything but a spoiled snob or a rich brat.”

“Nah, you just have a serious kink for spending all your time around wild animals at that reserve up in Romania. How Liam puts up with you forcing him to live in the middle of nowhere is a mystery to me.”

Caleb laughed and Charlie rolled his eyes at him, then nudged his upper arm with enough force to pull a disgruntled yelp from Caleb, who frowned at him and rubbed his now sore biceps.

“Stop with all the violence, Weasley!” he reprimanded although there was no bite to his bark; it was just good-natured banter between old friends.

“Now, I believe you wanted to tell me all about those dungeons and how they laid the foundation for Draco finding his home in the world of kink.”

Caleb changed the topic back and Draco scoffed, clearly put out that Caleb had roped him back into the conversation.

“There was nothing kinky about those dungeons, Reid, thank you very much. Now, kindly get your mind out of the gutter or I’ll get my Harry to have his wicked way with you and trust me, while that will be fun to watch, for me at least, it won’t be fun for you. He’s got a few tricks up his sleeves you’ve yet to discover.”

Caleb grinned from ear to ear and even Liam, who had, up until now, been quietly kneeling on the floor at Charlie’s feet, could no longer suppress the urge to laugh along. He, too, had attended Hogwarts and the joke made far more sense to him than it made to Caleb or Stefan, who both looked mildly confused. At hearing his laughter, Charlie squeezed his shoulder gently and they both exchanged a look.

“Come sit beside me for tonight, Liam, my boy,” he said, inviting Liam to forgo proper Master/slave etiquette for the night.

There was a special kind of softness to his voice; one Harry knew Charlie reserved for moments like this, moments when he allowed Liam to do things, he usually did not have permission to do. Things that required Charlie’s explicit consent, like, for example, sitting on the furniture beside his Master. Their relationship was far stricter and Liam had to obey a whole lot more rules than Draco.

Caleb laughed, drawing everyone’s focus back on him.

“ _Your_ Harry? Ha! Your delusions of grandeur are astonishing, Malfoy. If anything, you’re his property, not the other way around but, please, bring it on. I’d love to see Potter try and best me. I’ll have him on his knees faster than you can use your safeword, Draco. I’m a firefighter, these muscles did not grow by themselves. They are the result of years of hard training and wielding halligans, hammers and axes, breaking down doors, and climbing ladders.”

Caleb continued to squabble with Draco, who merely rolled his eyes and looked unimpressed. He did not appear to be in the least bit intimidated by Caleb and although Harry didn’t say anything, he was silently rooting for Draco. He always did. Not because he wanted Caleb to be on the receiving end of Draco’s scathing sass but because he enjoyed Draco’s _I-can-take-care-of-myself-attitude_ immensely. It made all those times Draco submitted to him and surrendered control even sweeter.

“Your wishful thinking is truly delightful, Reid,” Draco said, effortlessly holding Caleb’s gaze.

Stefan clapped his hands.

“Now, now, boys, play nice or are you planning to bicker back and forth all night? C, you know you won’t win,” he said, gently placing his hand on Caleb’s thigh.

Caleb turned his head and raised an eyebrow at Stefan.

“Careful now, pet, I’ve no problem with giving you a spanking right here, right now,” he warned.

Stefan smiled.

“I’m not trying to be bratty, Sir, I’m just humbly acting as your voice of reason. He won’t let you win and you know that as well as I do, so, there’s really no point in trying, C. Since I’m merely stating the facts it would also be rather foolish of you to spank me for it, although, and you know this as well as I do, I’m the last person to turn down a sexy spanking.”

Caleb groaned.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you used to be such a sweet boy. Just the right amount of shy and quiet with very little sass. _What_ happened? I absolutely forbid you to spend any more time with Draco. He’s corrupting you.”

Charlie laughed.

“Ah, Reid, come off it. We all know we love a good dose of sass, Stefan’s always had it. You wouldn’t have picked us as friends if you didn’t.”

Caleb shook his head.

“Let’s just play the game.”

“Best idea you had all night,” Harry said.

Caleb turned his head to look at him and slowly arched his eyebrows.

“I thought paying for tonight’s drinks for you lot was my best idea.”

Harry smirked.

“Yeah, that too.”

With that response, he let go of Draco’s hand and reaching for the board game, he unpacked it carefully. He unfolded the board with its pre-marked surface — a rainbow-coloured circle that went around and around until you reached the wining field in the centre that promised an epic climax. Whether that was supposed to be a euphemism for an orgasm or just a kinky way to make the game’s winner feel better was up for individual interpretation. With a smirk, Harry handed everyone a silver game piece in the shape of an impressively sized erect penis.

Draco took his game piece, eyed it from all angles and promptly declared that he preferred Harry’s shape, girth and length compared to the miniature version of a horse’s dick.

Everyone at the table, Harry included, burst into laughter and it took several minutes for them to calm down again.

Once they had, Harry boldly hooked his finger into the O-ring at the front of Draco’s collar, pulled him closer and pressed a lingering kiss to his slightly parted sweet-tasting lips, then quietly whispered a few words, ensuring they were for Draco’s ears and his ears alone.

“Don’t bother buttering me up, my little prince, I won’t give you a pass on a dare that easily. It’ll take a little more effort on your part for that to happen.”

Draco shuddered and instead of saying anything more, he smiled coyly, then quietly reached for the two decks of fifty cards each; one was labelled truth, the other was labelled dare. He shuffled them thoroughly, then placed them, face down, on their designated fields on the board. Harry handed the playing die to Caleb and removed the empty board game box from the table to make a little bit more space for everyone.

“Since you’re paying for the drinks, it’s only fair that you start the game,” he said.

Caleb nodded.

“Alright with me, clockwise then.”

He rolled a four and moved his game piece four fields forward. It landed on a truth field and Caleb picked up a truth card from the stack, muttering something about karma being a bitch under his breath.

“What is one thing that gets you hot and bothered every time?”

Caleb read the question aloud and smiled. He toyed with the question card and looked around the group.

“That’s easy. One look at my boy Stefan here is all it takes to get me riled up.”

Stefan looked rather bashful and lowered his gaze, fidgeting with his game piece.

Caleb gently placed his own larger hand on top of his to stop him, leant in and kissed his cheek.

“I think you should answer the question too,” he said.

Stefan coughed, turned his head, and blushed a little harder.

“Sir—”

But Caleb shook his head.

“No, answer,” he said quite firmly, asserting his dominance.

Stefan sighed but relented and cleared his throat.

“When you wear your dress uniform, Sir,” he said quietly, then shyly looked around the table and turned crimson red.

Draco padded him on the shoulder.

“You’re not alone, I feel the same about Harry in his dress uniform.”

Stefan relaxed visibly and Harry chuckled.

“Interesting. Why have you never told me that before?” he asked.

Draco shrugged.

“With all due respect, Director Potter, you never asked.”

Harry reached for his bottle of beer and brought it up to his lips but instead of drinking from it, he held Draco’s gaze over the bottleneck’s rim.

“I think I have this game up in my playroom,” he mused aloud and delighted in the uncomfortable way that Draco shuffled in his seat. “I think we ought to find some time to tie you up and go through all the truth questions. I might just make some very interesting discoveries about you, Draco Malfoy.”

Draco coughed and his cheeks pinked a little.

“I have the feeling you’ll get some of your answers tonight, Harry.”

Harry grinned.

“I can’t wait.”

Draco looked away and nudged Stefan, urging him to continue with the game. Stefan picked up the die, rolled a five and his cock-shaped game piece miraculously landed one field ahead of Caleb’s. It was a free field and as such he neither needed to answer a question nor complete a dare.

He looked visibly relieved.

However, Draco, whose turn it was next, looked far less pleased about Stefan’s good fortune and eyed the die with mild trepidation but after dithering for a moment or two he took a deep breath, picked up the die and rolled it. He rolled a six, though since that meant moving his prick-shaped game piece onto a dare field, he looked decidedly unhappy about his so-called luck. He hesitated for a moment or two, then slowly reached for a dare card but before looking at it, he turned his head to glance at Harry, who gave him an encouraging smile.

Draco sighed and slowly turned the card around. He read it, caught Harry’s eye, then looked at everyone else and smirked.

“You have to wear handcuffs for the rest of the game,” he said.

Harry chuckled.

“Hm, I very much approve of this dare. I didn’t bring any handcuffs but I sure have your favourite leather bondage cuffs.”

He got up from the worn leather sofa and kissed Draco’s cheek before walking over to a low wooden shelf by the wall nearest to the door. Upon his arrival at the club, he’d left his holdall there, right beside Charlie’s and Caleb’s. In preparation for the game and as per Caleb’s instructions, he’d filled with a few kinky toys and several different types of restraints.

Harry undid the zipper and rummaged around the bag for a minute or two. He located the wrist restraints and returning to the sofa, he showed them to Draco, who glanced at him with a somewhat shy smile.

Instead of nodding to silently convey his consent, Draco simply undid the sleeve buttons on his grey cotton shirt, rolled his sleeves up just enough for the cuffs to fit comfortably around his wrists, and offered his hands up to him.

“What do you know, Draco Malfoy can be a good boy when he wants to be.”

Caleb grinned and took a sip from his beer.

Harry expertly fastened the cuffs, locked them together and as he ensured that they weren’t too tight, he turned his head to look at his friend.

“Reid, this may come as a complete surprise to you but Draco is always a good boy. The problem isn’t his submission but rather the fact that you couldn’t handle him in your wildest dreams, I however can and therefore he’s good. He does it for me, I’ve earnt that privilege.”

Caleb laughed and even Draco chuckled.

“For once I agree with you, Potter,” Caleb said.

“Are you going on record to say this?” Draco asked.

He leant forward and reaching for the die, he handed it over to Harry, who rolled it and ended up with a two. It was a truth field, and reaching for one of the cards, he looked at it and smiled.

“Have you ever been or would you like to be called _Daddy_?”

He read the question and paused for a moment or two, then glanced at Draco and smirked deviously.

“Not yet.”

“Not for all the riches in the world will you ever get me to call you that!”

Draco objected rather vehemently and attempted to cross his arms over his chest but couldn’t since he was wearing wrist cuffs. He huffed and falling back against the sofa’s backrest, he glared daggers.

Charlie laughed.

“Never say never, Draco. Also, just so you know, Potter here is having you on. That’s not his kink. It has never been his kink and I doubt it ever will, you’re safe. In another life perhaps.”

In response to that, Draco glared even harder and a dark scowl appeared on his face.

Harry hastily reached for the die and handed it to Liam, who took it, rolled a six and ended up having to take a dare-card as well.

“Crawl into your partner’s lap and tongue-kiss them anywhere you choose but do not touch them with your hands.”

He toyed with the card, then briefly looked at Charlie before lowering his gaze in silent surrender. Charlie reached out, took the card from him, and placed it on the table. He squeezed Liam’s hand reassuringly and smiled.

“Yes, pet, you may.”

He granted him permission and shuffling, Liam eased himself into Charlie’s lap, moved his hands behind his back and crossed his wrists, resting them just above his lower back. He closed the small gap between himself and Charlie and burying his face in his neck, he kissed him there, which Charlie seemed to rather enjoy, since he wrapped his arms around Liam, hugged him tight and tilted his head to give him better access.

He hummed in approval and instead of watching Liam tongue-kiss Charlie’s neck, Harry looked at Draco, whose cheeks had flushed a little. When he tried to avert his gaze, Harry caught it, held it, and smiled. He reached over, took one of Draco’s hands and lacing their fingers together, he squeezed gently and shuffled a little closer.

“Thanks for playing,” he whispered the words so quietly that they were for Draco’s ears only.

“You’re welcome,” Draco whispered back and his flush lessened.

He smiled.

“I love you, my little prince.”

Six little words were all it took for Draco’s flush to return full force and he blinked, glowered a little, then pulled his hand from Harry’s grasp and reached for his beer. He sipped on it, toyed with the bottle, then smiled.

“Love you too, Sir,” he murmured the words back.

Harry let his hand rest on Draco’s thigh, just above his knee, and squeezed a little. It wasn’t a very possessive gesture but given the fact that Draco was wearing his collar and his cuffs, Harry felt rather possessive about it all. There was something about the way they sat next to each other, enjoying a lazy, but kinky, game night with friends, while Draco showed him subtle signs of surrender that had Harry crave more of the same.

A moment later, Liam stopped kissing Charlie’s neck, moved off his lap and seated himself next to his Master, who reached for the die and rolled a four. His game piece ended up next to Caleb’s and he took a truth card.

“What kind of porn did you last watch? Hm, I didn’t watch any porn, not my style. But I did watch my sweet boy pleasure himself for me and it was an absolute delight and even better than porn. There’s nothing quite as much of a turn on as watching Liam enjoy himself to make me happy.”

Charlie read and answered the question in one breath and wrapped one arm around Liam. He pulled him against his chest and hugging him close, he kissed his forehead with tender affection.

Harry felt sorely tempted to do with same with Draco but knew that he’d get his chance to do so eventually.

They continued to play several more rounds and as the game progressed both the dares and truths got slightly bolder. They talked about all sorts of kinky preferences and fetishes.

Caleb’s second truth question required him to admit which wildly liked sex act he thought overrated. He answered, truthfully and entirely without hesitation. In his opinion, the missionary style position was unnecessary and most definitely overrated and since everyone had a strong preference for kink, they all conceded.

About half an hour into the game, Stefan ended up with a dare card that had him perform fellatio on two of Caleb’s fingers for a minimum of five minutes. Caleb initially tried to void the dare, which, as Stefan’s Dom, was his prerogative but Charlie told him not to be such a pussycat. Caleb took offence to that and after promising Charlie to make the rest of his life truly miserable, he allowed Stefan to go ahead with his dare.

Stefan appeared to rather enjoy the task but his mouth, lips, and tongue were apparently far too skilled and much to everyone’s amusement, Caleb ended up shuffling uncomfortably on the sofa. He also seemed completely disinclined to keep his lust-laden dark eyes off Stefan although after what Stefan had just done to his sanity, Harry really couldn’t fault him for that.

Several titillating truths later, including Harry confessing to not knowing the last names of every single person he’d ever had sex with, Charlie’s dare required him to whisper the naughtiest thing he could think of into Liam’s ear. After two minutes of listening to his Master’s filthy fantasies, Liam looked just as uncomfortable as Caleb had when Stefan had sucked on his fingers.

Eventually though, Liam got his own back and when his truth card required him to confess the sexiest thing anyone had ever said to him, he looked at Charlie, smiled, and then told everyone that he couldn’t think of anything sexier than hearing Charlie tell him that he was his, that Charlie owned him, and could, therefore, do whatever he wanted with him.

In reaction to that truthful statement, Charlie ran his fingers through Liam’s hair and pulled him closer to kiss his forehead in silent appreciation.

Harry felt Draco shuffle closer to him and press his cheek to his shoulder. He squeezed Draco’s thigh and relished in the closeness between them both. They’d been sitting quite close to each other all night but Draco’s voluntary display of his affection for Harry at hearing Liam’s kinky confession, made Harry’s heart flutter with excitement.

A while after that, Draco ended up with a truth card in his hand, after he’d asked Harry to roll the die for him.

He twisted the card around in his hands, then read it out.

“What’s the first thing on your sexual bucket list?”

He laughed.

“You know what; I leave those decisions up to Harry. He’s devious enough for the both of us. I doubt there’s anything I could think of that he hasn’t already fantasised about doing to me. Besides he gets a rather itchy hand when I try to take control.”

Stefan grinned and nudged him.

“Don’t even try to tell us that you don’t enjoy that because we all know that you do.”

Everyone laughed and drinking his beer, Draco shrugged.

“I never said I didn’t like it,” he said with a chuckle.

Harry was instantly impressed by his carefree admittance. He hadn’t really expected it, at least not while they were out with friends. After all, it had been a little less than a year since Draco had started his exploration into the world of BDSM. Apparently, Draco seemed rather comfortable among their friends and even though he was on his second bottle of beer, Harry highly doubted that it was the alcohol talking.

Unable and unwilling to control himself, Harry shuffled and cupping Draco’s cheeks, he kissed him. Charlie, Liam, Caleb, and Stefan cheered and clapped and when Harry pulled away Draco’s cheeks were pink. His light flush was endearing and leaning close, Harry told him so.

In response, Draco blushed a little harder and nudged him with his cuffed hands; a half-hearted attempt to get him to stop.

“You two are sickeningly sweet,” Caleb said.

Harry grinned.

“Jealous, Reid?”

Caleb rolled his eyes.

“Most definitely not.”

“As if you’re not all over your boy any chance you get,” Charlie said with a dirty smirk.

Caleb balled up a napkin and threw it into his Charlie’s general direction.

“Do those two always behave like complete children?” Draco asked.

Harry nodded.

“Afraid so. I figured you’d worked this out for yourself by now.”

Draco hummed noncommittally.

“They usually try to behave.”

Charlie caught his eyes, winked, and laughed.

“You nailed it, Drake. Reid and I, well, we sometimes manage to hide our childishness for long enough to make people believe that we are responsible adults.”

Caleb glowered at them all.

“Oi, Weasley, speak for yourself. Contrary to the complete guff you’re spouting tonight, I actually am a responsible adult, you’re the one who lives out in the wild, keeps feral animals as pets and calls it a job.”

“I swear, Reid, if you’re going to give me some blarney about how being a firefighter has turned you into a responsible adult, I’m gonna throw one of these silver pricks at you.”

“Well, mate, I hate to break it to you but you kind of have to be responsible when you’re running into a burning building.”

Charlie laughed.

“Fuck me, Reid, you gobshite. Not that age-old tale again. Running into a burning building is the epitome of insanity. Responsible adults run out of a burning building, not into it. You most definitely failed to make your point, Big C, quite spectacularly so, and I believe everyone here will agree with me,” he said.

“I’m staying out of this, so don’t even expect me to pick sides,” Harry said, sorely tempted to roll his eyes at Charlie’s and Caleb’s entire conversation.

Draco shuddered beside him and shuffling a little, Harry put his beer bottle down on the table and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He squeezed a little and pulled him closer against his body.

“You OK, my love?” he asked quietly.

Draco nodded but snuggled into his embrace, clearly seeking comfort.

“I’d appreciate less talk about running into burning buildings, those images aren’t exactly my favourite,” he whispered.

Harry moved his other hand to rest on top of Draco’s bound wrist. He wedged his thumb underneath one of the loose cuffs and pressed it against Draco’s pulse point, gently circling over the spot. Draco relaxed further into his embrace and Harry tightened his hold on him and pressed a lingering kiss to his temple.

“I’ve got you, you’re safe with me, my love,” he murmured the reassuring words against Draco’s pale, soft, and warm skin.

Draco hummed quietly and pulling away, Harry cut the mad banter between Charlie and Caleb short, asking them outright to quit talking about burning buildings.

Charlie, who knew about Draco’s phobia, immediately fell silent and looked rather apologetic.

“Sorry, Drake,” he said.

Draco grimaced.

“Seriously, Weasley, I hate the fact that Gin butchers my name but that woman is seriously terrifying and her you-know-whats are better than mine will ever be so I never say anything. I really don’t need another redhead doing the same. So, erm, please?”

Charlie inclined his head in silent acknowledgement.

“Duly noted, Draco.”

Caleb looked back and forth between them both with a great deal of confusion written all over his face.

“What are we apologising for? And you’re right, Drake is a horrible nickname.”

Draco smiled softly.

“Thanks, Caleb.”

“Not a bother, happy to have your back when the situation calls for it and getting one over Charlie falls into that category.”

Caleb waved his hand casually and reaching for a third bottle of beer and a bottle opener, he opened it up and took a small swig.

“I’m still curious, though. What is it we are apologising for? I generally don’t make a habit of overstepping someone’s boundaries, so if I’ve inadvertently done so, I’m really sorry.”

Harry instinctively hugged Draco tighter. He was silently pleased when Draco did not tense but still couldn’t resist the urge to protect him; at this stage, it was second nature. He turned his head, pressed his forehead against Draco’s temple and kissed his cheek.

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to, my love.”

He whispered the words into Draco’s ear and looked up when he felt him move his hands and take his hand into his own. He placed it between the palms of his hands and squeezed, then tilted his head back, turned it and smiled at him.

“Always the protective Dom,” he said.

Harry’s lips curled upwards and he nodded.

“You’re precious, I can’t help myself.”

“It’s appreciated, Harry, thank you.”

Draco leant in, briefly pecked him on the lips, then turned his head to look at everybody.

“I’m afraid this is rather a bit of a downer but, uhm, well, it’s been a while since the accident, in fact, it’s been a little over a decade, so I feel like I can talk about this. When I was at school, well, when Harry and I were at school, there was an incident and it’s left a bit of a mark on me, I guess. One of the old storage rooms in the castle caught fire. It was full of old desks, chairs, cabinets, and books. It burnt like wildfire, a proper blaze. I was inside when the fire broke out, along with two friends; one, unfortunately, didn’t make it. If it hadn’t been for Harry running back inside, the flames would have burnt me alive.”

For a few moments, an eerie silence filled the room. It was the uncomfortable sort of silence, the kind of quietness that was so thick, it felt like you could almost touch it or even cut it with a knife.

Harry looked around the room. Charlie obviously knew the real story behind the fire but even he looked subdued. Liam who also knew that the incident Draco had alluded to must have happened during the Battle of Hogwarts, looked decidedly shell-shocked and Harry was rather glad to note that Charlie had sensed his slave’s emotional discomfort. In a comforting gesture, he wrapped both his arms around Liam, hugged him tight and held him in a protective embrace, offering physical reassurance and a haven.

Eventually, and after another few minutes of silence, Caleb cleared his throat and spoke up.

“Draco, I’m so sorry, I promise you I’ll never ever make another fire-related joke in your presence. Believe me, even though I’ve made a career out of running into fires and dragging people out of it, I cannot imagine the panic you must have felt and how terrified you must have been. Thank you for being brave and sharing your experience with us, with me. I know we always squabble but believe me, I have the utmost respect for you. You’re a fine young man, Draco Malfoy. You know, I’ve always thought you and Harry had a special bond and now I finally understand why.”

Harry supportively squeezed Draco’s upper arm and smiled at Caleb. Once again, his friend had, quite effortlessly so, reminded him what a kind soul he really was. For all his cheek and his scary act, on the inside, Caleb cared deeply about his friends. He was righteous, protective, and honest, and when Charlie had first introduced him to Caleb, those had been the very characteristics that had drawn him to the man and made him want to pursue a long-lasting friendship with him.

“After that incident, I was a bit of a mess for a while,” Draco said. “I’m mostly over it now. Tell me, aren’t you scared out of your mind when you’re supposed to run into a burning building?”

Caleb smiled.

“The first time I followed my commanding officer into a fire, I thought we were all going to die. I was scared shitless twenty years ago and I’m still scared shitless now. I remember, my second day at the academy, one of our instructors, an honest-to-god smoke eater, gave us a piece of advice, told us to make it our golden rule: _the day you stop being scared of fire is the day you become reckless_. In all my years on the job, it’s the most important thing I ever learnt and I teach it to all my man.”

Harry squeezed Draco’s arm again.

“Are you sure that’s what you want to talk about? He loves telling stories about his escapades. If you get him started, he won’t shut up all night.”

Draco chuckled softly and turned his head to look at him. His silvery-grey eyes shone with a kind of warmth that Harry usually only saw in them when they were alone together. He reached out, brushed a strand of silky-soft blond hair out of Draco’s face and attempted to move it behind his ear. It stubbornly fell right back into his face and Draco shook his head to force it aside. He smiled and held Harry’s gaze for several long seconds.

“Talking about it doesn’t scare me, Harry. It’s the actual thing that scares me.”

“And it should,” Caleb cut in.

Draco turned his attention back to him and suppressed a sigh. Harry let him get on with it. So far, Draco seemed fine and for as long as he appeared relaxed and at ease, Harry didn’t intend on stopping him from having a conversation with a friend.

“I hope you got some professional help afterwards, Draco, found someone to talk to. Going through what you went through, that’s not the easiest thing to digest. It stays with you.”

“I did see someone about it. She was wonderful and worked really hard to help me get over it, or well get a handle on it.”

Caleb nodded in silent agreement.

“I’m glad to hear that, Draco.”

Draco leant forward and out of Harry’s embrace. He reached for his bottle of beer, took a sip and holding on to it with both his hands, he leant back into Harry’s embrace.

Harry welcomed him with a fierce one-armed hug, one that was a tiny little bit more possessive than before. He placed his hand on Draco’s thigh, squeezed it a little, then leant in and kissed Draco’s cheek.

Draco pushed into the kiss, then turned his head slightly, smiled at him and mouthed the words _I love you_. He toyed with this beer bottle and picking at the label, he tore a corner of it off and as he rolled the sticky paper into a tiny ball between his thumb and index finger, he focused back on Caleb.

“Caleb, can I ask you something a little bit personal?”

Caleb nodded.

“Of course.”

Draco took a sip of beer and swallowing it down, he cleared his throat.

“I was just wondering if you ever, you know, do you mix kink and fire?”

Caleb shook his head.

“Never, Draco. Kink is one thing, fire is another and, well, no, I couldn’t. It’s my hard limit. Fire does not excite me in the least.”

Draco inclined his head in silent understanding and was about to thank Caleb for his honest answer when Stefan suddenly spoke up.

“So, uhm, I’m curious, well, I guess wax play is a big no for you then?” he asked. “It took Caleb a while to get around to the idea but after he did and we experimented with it, it definitely brought us closer to together.”

Caleb clicked his tongue and fixed Stefan with a hard glare, one that made him squirm.

“Tsk, pet, that was utterly tactless and most definitely not to my liking,” he reprimanded Stefan firmly.

Stefan thankfully had the decency to look embarrassed and lowered his head in shame.

“I’m sorry, Sir.”

“We’ll talk about it later,” Caleb said with a serious undertone to his voice.

Harry felt Draco squirm uncomfortably in his embrace, clearly unhappy with the idea that Stefan might get into trouble simply for being curious. After all, it hadn’t been Stefan who had started the conversation, although, and Harry had to side with Caleb there, he too thought Stefan’s unquenchable inquisitiveness a little tactless. Had it been Draco, Harry probably wouldn’t have said anything but in that regard, Caleb ran a much tighter ship. He expected a certain kind of behaviour from his sub and any disregard of his rules usually ended with either a verbal admonishment or a punishment.

“Er, actually, it’s all right. I’ve got to admit; I’m warming up to the idea of wax play.”

Draco coughed and looked around the room. His flushed cheeks glowed pink and he appeared to be mildly embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, that was a seriously bad pun.”

To his surprise, however, everyone started chuckling with Harry being the first and Charlie joining him.

“That was actually quite a good pun, Draco,” he said. “It’s got a special sort of dark twist.”

Harry chortled and leaning close, he pressed his lips to Draco’s ear.

“Slytherin humour,” he whispered.

Draco shuddered, then started laughing.

The sombre mood in the room began to lighten and it gradually lifted and disappeared. They all toasted and as they drank, Charlie suggested that they ought to keep playing. He reached for the die and rolled it, ending up with a five. He moved his cock-shaped silver game piece and promptly ended on a dare field. With a grumble, he picked a card from the dare stack and frowned at it.

“Why do me and Liam get all the kissing dares? My poor boy is going to have chapped lips by the end of it,” he complained and promptly thrust the dare card at Harry.

It landed in his lap, and picking it up, Harry glanced at it and smirked.

“Come on, Potter, show us what you’ve got! Kiss your man senseless and let us watch, I’ve been dying to see you snog his face off,” Charlie said.

Harry glanced at the card and turning his head, he showed it to Draco and raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Any objections to me ravishing you for ten minutes?” he asked.

Draco shook his head.

“No objections, Sir, do as you please,” he replied.

Harry barely managed to suppress a growl and expertly straddling Draco’s thighs, he sat back on his haunches but leant close and brushed his lips against Draco’s, who parted his own ever so slightly and let out a shaky breath of air.

“Are you going to be devious about this?” he whispered.

Harry chuckled.

“You bet I will,” he said.

Before Draco could say or ask anything else, he captured his lips in a fiery kiss and pushing Draco further into the leather sofa’s backrest, he pried his lips a little more apart and let his tongue slither into Draco’s mouth, deepening the kiss and claiming his sweet-tasting warm wet cavern as his own. Draco surrendered rather beautifully and as he let out a tiny moan, which Harry greedily swallowed, he tried to fist his fingers into the hem of Harry’s shirt.

Harry quite deliberately moved his hips and pressing his crotch against Draco’s restrained hands, he thrust forward ever so slightly, then ran one of his hands down Draco’s front, teasing his nipples through his shirt and trailing his hands even further down until he’d reached Draco’s cock, which he cupped and squeezed.

Aware that nobody had a good enough angle to see what he was doing, he pulled away from the kiss and waited for Draco’s eyes to flutter open. He smirked and relished in the shudder that surged through Draco.

“Just how far are you going to let me take this, my little prince?” he whispered.

Draco mewled but said nothing one could construe as him withdrawing his consent to whatever game Harry might want to play with him. He merely gasped, steadily held his gaze, and inhaled deeply.

“A handjob? Or a blowjob? Perhaps you want me to fuck you right here on the sofa where everyone can see that you’re mine and I can do with you as I please while you’re wearing my collar?”

He smiled deviously and before Draco could answer his question, he resumed kissing him, ferociously claiming his lips, and plunging his tongue into Draco’s mouth. He swallowed another one of Draco’s moans and squeezed his half-hard cock through his snug-fitting trousers.

“Jaysus fucking Christ, would you two stop that already? This is torture to watch. Cut it out or I’ll find myself forced to drag my darling boy here to one of the private rooms for some much-needed stress relief.”

Caleb reprimanded them both but since there was no real bite to his bark, Harry firmly ignored him.

A minute later, he slowly broke away from the kiss and pulling a couple of inches back, he stared down at Draco, rubbed the palm of his hand gently over his cock and smirked when said action pulled a tiny moan from the depths of Draco’s throat.

“Please don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

Stefan implored them both and grinning, they giggled. Harry winked at Draco, then raised a questioning eyebrow and when Draco nodded, he resumed kissing him or rather continued to snog his face off.

Caleb grumbled unhappily.

“You both deserve to be spanked!”

“I do too, Sir.”

Stefan told him which made Caleb chuckle.

“You deserve a cane, that’s what you deserve, cheeky monkey you.”

After another few minutes of tonguing the life out of Draco, Harry slowly, but rather reluctantly, stopped kissing Draco and pulled away from him. He inhaled deeply, then shuffled and seated himself next to Draco, sinking deeply into the comfortable leather cushions. Although he knew his friends wouldn’t mind, he pulled one knee up and rested the heel of his foot on the edge of the sofa, somewhat concealing the bulge in his trousers. Draco wisely kept his cuffed hands in his lap, expertly hiding his rather prominent arousal.

They looked at each other, then at their friends, and promptly burst out laughing.

Charlie, Liam, Caleb, and Stefan followed suit and some ten minutes past before they all managed to calm down enough to properly continue playing the game.

* * *

* * *

The gentle knock on the wooden doorframe alerted Harry to Draco’s arrival and turning around, he casually leant back against the sturdy wooden bondage bench with its soft black leather paddings. He crossed one ankle over the other and rested his hands on the bench on either side of his body, purposefully keeping them uncrossed.

Draco stood in the doorframe to the playroom, fully dressed but with bare feet — somehow, not wearing shoes while at home was his thing and Harry had never questioned it. Draco had yet to step over the threshold and although Harry had made it clear to him that he didn’t expect him to come up to the playroom because they were going to spend the afternoon being kinky, he was impressed with the level of Draco’s obedience.

Waiting for permission to enter the playroom, even when the door was open, was something they’d discussed, and incorporated into the house rules a while ago. Draco always honoured that rule, even when Harry didn’t explicitly ask him to do so.

“All finished?” Harry asked.

Draco nodded.

“Yes, Sir.”

Harry smiled.

“Aren’t you a good boy?”

Draco shrugged.

“Occasionally, I can be. May I come in?”

Harry chuckled at that response; it was very true. While Draco was usually very good, his sass sometimes got the better of him and turned him into a little bit of a brat. Admittedly, Harry enjoyed every single moment of it. Draco’s cheek was always refreshing and the fact that Harry knew exactly how to get under his skin and bring out his submissive side only made it that much more special.

“Absolutely, come here,” he said, allowing Draco to step across the threshold and enter the playroom.

Draco crossed the room and walked up to him. When he stopped in front of him, Harry reached for his hands, squeezed them gently and circled his thumbs slowly over the back of his hands, then pulled him a little closer.

“I assume our bedcovers are now Slytherin-green?” he asked with a low chuckle and an amused twinkle in his eyes.

Draco rolled his eyes in response.

“Actually, I chose the charcoal grey silk duvet cover set.”

Harry grinned.

“Trying to tempt me into dragging you out of here and straight to bed?”

Draco laughed, then winked at him.

“Is it working, Sir?”

“Maybe,” Harry said with a shrug. “Perhaps a little later, my sweet prince. First I’ve something I’d like to talk to you about.”

Draco nodded.

“I figured you wanted to talk to me. If you’d wanted to play, you’d have given me more instructions.”

“That’s very intuitive of you,” Harry praised.

Draco smiled coyly and Harry’s heart fluttered at the sight of it — there was something about that side of Draco that got to him every single time. It was the stark contrast between who he was outside of the room and who he became once he stepped over the threshold of their playroom. There was always a discernible difference. In here, he was more open, more vulnerable, and didn’t hide behind his cloak of sass. It was still there; he just didn’t rely on it.

Once inside the playroom, Draco always looked to him for comfort and safety and Harry loved that about him. That level of trust meant the world to him; it was everything, it was the foundation of their relationship. It was the key that made their relationship work and why Draco felt both confident and comfortable to indulge in his newly discovered kinky cravings and why he agreed to Harry gently pushing his boundaries and controlling him, dominating him. It explained his willingness to surrender and his desire to obey.

“What do you want to talk about?” Draco asked.

His voice was soft and low. He didn’t sound subdued, preoccupied, or scared, he was just Draco without quite as many layers. He was a little less guarded but perhaps a little shyer. There was an immediate level of intimacy there, one Harry absolutely cherished. He pulled Draco a little closer, ran his fingers through the soft strands of Draco’s hair, and resting his hand at the nape of Draco’s neck, Harry straightened up, leant in, and kissed him softly. He pressed his lips to Draco’s, lingered a little, then pulled back and moved his hand to caress Draco’s cheekbone.

“I wanted to talk to you yesterday after our game night at the club but we had a couple of drinks and got back late so late, it didn’t make any sense to stay up to have this conversation. Besides, it’s best if we’re both clear-headed for this.”

“Should I be scared? I’m not in trouble, am I?”

Harry smiled.

“You shouldn’t be in scared, there’s nothing to be scared about. And you’re not in trouble. Unless you want to be. I’m sure we can come up with some wicked reason that’ll give me an excuse to spank you.”

Draco chuckled.

“No excuse required; you have my permission regardless, Sir.”

Harry grinned.

“You say the sweetest things, my hand’s already twitching.”

“Whenever is it not?”

“Good point. On a more serious note though, I’d like to show you something.”

“OK.”

“Come with me.”

Lacing his fingers through Draco’s, Harry pulled him across the room and over to one of the black chiffoniers over beside the red leather sofa. He rested his free hand on top of the silver handle of the top drawer but did not pull it open yet.

“I’ve got something I want to show you, but before I do, I want you to remember that you’re under no obligation to agree to anything. I just want to have another chat with you about something we’ve previously discussed. Do you understand?”

Draco nodded and Harry was about to click his tongue and ask him to use his words when he did so out of his own accord.

“I understand, Harry. I know you would never force me to do anything I don’t absolutely want to do.”

Harry smiled and squeezed Draco’s hand lightly.

“I will never force you to do anything unless we’ve explicitly discussed it and me ignoring you telling me _no_ is something you want to do.”

“I know.”

“It doesn’t hurt to remind you.”

“I appreciate that.”

Draco’s smile made Harry’s heart flutter again and unwilling to resist, he drew him in for another kiss. It was a sweet kiss, nothing deep or possessive, just a physical affirmation of his feelings for Draco, however, when he pulled away, Draco smirked at him.

“I think I’ve figured you out, Harry Potter.”

Harry raised an eyebrow.

“Oh? You have?”

Draco nodded.

“Care to enlightened me then?” Harry asked.

“You’ve got nothing to show me, you just lured me up here to kiss me senseless.”

Harry laughed.

“I can do that anywhere in the house. I didn’t have to _lure_ you into the playroom for that.”

“True but it’s kinkier that way and we both know you like kinky.”

Harry grinned.

“Like you don’t, my little prince, like you don’t.”

“I’ve let you corrupt me.”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that, sweet one.”

“I didn’t say I mind. I’m quite partial to you corrupting me. It’s definitely a good thing.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that.”

Harry smiled and hooked his index finger around the silver handle of the drawer. He pulled it open and revealed the contents to Draco.

As expected, he felt the tremor that surged through Draco and heard him inhale sharply.

Harry instinctively sought out the pulse point on Draco’s wrist and circled his thumb over it. The familiar caress seemed to calm Draco almost instantly, as it usually did, though he did not take his eyes off the drawer’s contents.

Inside the drawer was a beautiful brand-new black silk blindfold, matching black silk sash restraints, an assortment of several long-stemmed low-temperature soy wax play candles in black, white, red, and purple, and a tub of pure coconut oil.

Harry had purchased three candles of each colour and made sure to place them inside a special wax play box with a glass lid that protected the candles from scratches. It was heavily cushioned and charmed to ensure that the candles wouldn’t break if someone accidentally dropped the box, something that wasn’t likely to happen but Harry didn’t like taking any chances, not with this and not with any of his toys. He was meticulous about keeping everything inside the playroom clean and in perfect order.

Instead of allowing the silence to potentially send Draco’s mind into a tailspin of destructive thoughts or allow his trepidation to fester, Harry spoke up, effectively drawing Draco’s attention away from the exquisite silk bondage restraints and the candles, especially the candles.

“Since you first told me that you want to give wax play a try, we’ve talked about it at length and I’ve given you plenty of time to properly come around to the idea. Based on yesterday’s conversation, I think you have but ultimately, only you can be the judge of that. It’s your decision. This here, it’s my offer to you and my promise to ease you into it as slowly as possible and to never subject you to more than I think you can take.”

Draco gasped in response. He slowly reached out and his fingers hovered less than two inches above the glass-encased candles. They never actually touched the glass and Draco made no attempt to. Instead, he pulled his hand back, rested it on the edge of the drawer and focused back on Harry.

“I’m still terrified,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. “But I want to try this so badly, I want the experience, I want to do this with you. I want to know what it feels like, I want the connection, the intimacy of it.”

Harry smiled softly.

He placed his hand on top of Draco’s and squeezed gently. The thumb of his other hand continued to rub circles over the pulse point on Draco’s wrist, providing a steady source of calm for Draco to draw strength from.

“I know you do and that’s the only reason I’m making you this offer. I think that with a little practice, you can absolutely handle it.”

Harry removed the lid from the box and taking one of the white candles out, he offered it to Draco, who hesitated for a moment but eventually wrapped his fingers around it and carefully held on to it.

“I’ve had these especially commissioned for you. They are pure soy candles and their melting point is extra low, I’ve made sure of that. You’ll still feel a bit of a sting when the wax first lands on your skin but it’ll mostly feel like a warm caress and when you lose yourself in the sensations, you’ll want more. You’ll want me to cover every inch of you with wax, including your most private parts.”

Draco shuddered and while he looked apprehensive at the idea of having his cock and balls covered in wax, he did not immediately reject the idea but let it sit with him.

“How would we start?” he asked quietly. “Or are you planning to push me into the deep end of the pool?”

He pulled his hand away from Harry’s loose grasp and stroked his index finger along the length of the candle, feeling the cool wax against the tip of his finger. Harry watched him carefully, then wrapped his hand around Draco, making it so that they were both holding on to the candle.

“Definitely not by dumping you into the deep end of the pool, never that. We’ll start with you holding the burning candle and watching the wax drip down onto my hand and forearm. I want you to see what it feels like for me and what my skin will look like afterwards.”

“I’m pretty sure you have a higher pain threshold than me.”

Harry smiled.

“Perhaps, but that’s of no importance. What’s important is for you to see what it feels like and what it will look like. The only way I will do this to you is if you see me dripping wax onto my own skin first. Reassurance that I will never cause you any harm or hurt you in ways you don’t want me to hurt you. Besides, the golden rule of wax play is and has always been, _don’t ever cover your sub with hot melted wax if you’re not willing to take it yourself_ and it’ll be far more effective for you to see me enforce that rule rather than just tell you about it.”

Draco nodded in understanding but remained otherwise silent. For a few moments at least.

“I’ll need to know it’s coming, Harry, you can’t surprise me with this like with all the other stuff. I need us to plan this.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t dream of surprising you with something as big as this. I know what it means to you. I would like to work out a schedule, something to slowly ease you into it. We’ll start simple and gradually build up to the main event. Would you be okay with that?”

“I think so.”

Harry smiled.

“I’m not going to hand you a calendar that’ll include a wax play session every Friday at seven o’clock in the evening sharp if that’s what you’re thinking. I want to take it session by session. We’ll do one first and see how you feel about it. Who knows, you might even discover that it’s not at all for you but if it works out and you want another session with a little more intensity, we’ll schedule that.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“I thought you might,” Harry said.

He brought his hand up and caressed Draco’s cheek.

“You’re precious and beautiful and perfect and I love you so much, my sweet little prince.”

Draco’s eyelids fluttered and he pressed his lips firmly together. A flush of pink coloured his cheeks and he smiled coyly.

“I want to make this good for you, my love, if this is something you end up enjoying then I want you to love it with every fibre of your being. I want it to be something that’ll take your breath away. Something that’ll have you surrender every inch of yourself to me, something that’ll bring us closer together and create a connection that’ll last a lifetime.”

Draco exhaled softly, slowly.

“I think we already have that. I can’t imagine being with anyone else. You— you’re it for me, Harry.”

Harry smiled but, on the inside, his heart thumped so hard, he was sure that this time it would finally manage to break out of his ribcage. The butterflies in his stomach did more than just a thousand summersaults; they fluttered so madly that it took him every ounce of self-control to remain calm.

“You’ve been it for me for a while now, Draco,” he admitted, his voice low and soft, like the tender caress of a summer breeze or the slow crawl of ocean waves, gently drenching the sand.

Taking the candle from Draco, he returned it into its box, then cupped Draco’s face with both hands and captured his lips in a tender kiss. Draco melted against him and nudging the drawer closed, Harry sought out Draco’s hands, took hold of him and slowly pulled him from the room, along the length of the corridor and down the stairs. He never once broke away from the kiss and once they reached the third-floor landing, he slowly walked Draco backwards until they arrived at their bedroom door.

Harry pushed the door open with his foot, walked Draco into the room and over to the bed. There, he pushed him onto the bed, crawled after him and deepening the kiss, he relished in the way Draco let his legs fall open for him to slide in-between.

Draco wrapped his legs around his hips and locked his ankles behind his back and slowly breaking away from the kiss, Harry braced himself on his arms and smiled down at his little prince. Draco’s hair was in complete disarray and the colour of his eyes matched the charcoal grey of the silk bed covers. The hungry look in his eyes drove Harry positively wild and he moved to wrap his fingers around Draco’s wrists. Squeezing tightly, he pressed them into the mattress and smiled down at Draco, desirously gorging on the deep flush that had turned Draco’s cheeks red and the way his slightly parted lips glistened with a mixture of both his and Draco’s saliva.

“I want you to keep writing in your journal. Everyday. Tell me everything. I want to know it all,” he whispered.

“Yes, Harry,” Draco replied.

“I want to make love to you. I want to strip you naked and kiss every inch of you. I want to twist your mind and take away your sanity. I want to be inside you, I want to own you. I want you, Draco Malfoy. Now, always, forever.”

Draco gasped and blinked.

“Please, Harry,” he whispered, sounding breathless even though they’d stopped kissing a few minutes ago.

Harry chuckled softly, the sound a warm rumble bubbling up from deep inside of him.

“Patience, my love.”

He murmured the words against Draco’s lips, then before Draco could object, he captured them in a deeply passionate and fiercely possessive kiss; his first attempt of twisting Draco’s mind.

By the time he followed up with the slow removal of Draco’s clothes, Draco was a panting, breathless wreck with black glazed-over eyes. He pleaded and begged and Harry silenced him with a kiss, then another one, and just for good measure and because it was so much fun, a third one. He instructed Draco to help him get undressed but Draco’s hands trembled and his movements were so uncoordinated that Harry ended up helping, taking off his own clothes for Draco’s benefit.

Once they were both naked, Harry took his sweet time to make good on his promise and procuring a pair of silken wrist restraints from under the mattress — they really were just long black silk sash scarves — he loosely tied Draco’s wrists to the headboard and then proceeded to truly kiss every inch of him, front and back, including his cock, balls and his fluttering hole.

Draco begged and pleaded and each time he did, Harry captured his mouth in a fiery kiss, thrust his tongue deep into his mouth and wound it around Draco’s, exploring every inch of the hot wet cavern that Draco so willingly surrendered to him. When he finally pushed two well-lubricated fingers into Draco and teased his prostate until he repeatedly came, Draco was a hot mess. He writhed about the bed, tugged on his restraints, and mumbled garbled incomprehensible gibberish.

By the time, Harry claimed Draco’s hole with his cock and slowly sheathed his hard prick in Draco’s divine tight channel, Draco’s tears were flowing freely. Harry kissed them all away, repeatedly, then claimed Draco’s mouth with his own. He fucked him, slowly, unhurriedly and without paying any heed to Draco’s desperate pleas. He slipped a hand between their sweaty bodies, wrapped his fingers around Draco’s throbbing cock and stroked it in time with his slow thrusts.

Sometime later, Harry wasn’t exactly sure how much time had passed, he felt his orgasm take over and after having kept it at bay, after having forced it to remain a low, but intensely hot, burning heat, pooled in the depths of his groin, he now let it loose. It surged through him and as he emptied himself inside of Draco, he made sure to drag him over the edge with him, milking his cock until it had nothing more left to give.

Only then did he slowly pull out of Draco and undoing the knots in the silken scarves that kept his wrists bound to the headboard, he freed Draco, pulled him into his arms and wrapping all his limbs around him, he held him tight and kissed his tear-stained cheeks softly.

“I love you,” he whispered.

Draco blinked and slowly opened his eyes, staring at him with a bleary expression.

“I love you too,” he mumbled back.

Harry smiled.

“That was intense.”

“Everything with you is intense.”

Draco closed his eyes again, stretched a little, yawned, and then smiled.

“Spoiling the freshly-made bed was your idea, Sir. This time you change the covers.”

“The sass, and that minutes after I made you come more than a few times.”

Draco lazily opened one eye and gave him a lopsided grin.

“Is your hand itching again?”

Harry laughed, though why he had the energy to do so, he didn’t know.

“You know it is.”

“Give me half an hour to recover and you can have my arse.”

Harry snorted.

“I just had your arse, my love, with my mouth, tongue, fingers, and cock.”

“Greedy bastard.”

“Oi, easy on the cheek there, Malfoy.”

“Nah, you love it. So does your hand.”

Draco snuggled closer and Harry hugged him tighter.

“You’re playing with—”

Conscious of what he’d been about to say, he broke off and kissed Draco instead.

“How is it possible that you can be such a brat minutes after having mind-blowingly good sex?”

Draco soft of shrugged, blinked and tilting his head back, he looked at him.

“Don’t ask me such difficult questions. My brain is only able to have silly conversations.”

Harry rolled his eyes and poked Draco in the side.

Draco yelped and when Harry did it again, Draco squealed. He let out a high-pitched scream and desperately tried to wriggle away.

Harry, however, was just a little bit faster and a little bit stronger and pining Draco to the bed, he tickled him until he was breathless from laughing hard and a fresh stream of tears rolled down his cheeks as he squirmed and fought and tried to get away but was unable to gain any sort of traction on the silken sheets. He panted and pleaded and begged and wriggled like a dying flobberworm and when Harry told him that that was exactly what he looked like, he glowered darkly, growled, and made use of a most colourful array of expletives to get his point across.

Easing up on his attack a little, Harry allowed Draco to catch his breath, then kissed him passionately.

“You know, you’re something special,” he said.

Draco arched his eyebrow in a silent question.

“I practically let you get away with murder.”

Harry smiled and kissed the tip of Draco’s nose. Draco scrunched it up and brought his hand up to scratch it.

“Why?” he asked. “Am I too naughty for a sub?”

Harry laughed.

“You hit the nail on the head, my little prince. You practically are a complete brat.”

“Are you going to tighten the reins?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes, please.”

Harry chuckled.

“Are you sure you know what you’re asking for?”

Draco grinned.

“Yes, I’m asking for a sore arse, in a roundabout sort of way.”

Harry shook his head and temporarily rendered speechless, he said nothing more. Instead, he pulled Draco closer against his own body and wrangling with the duvet, he pulled it over them both, covered them, and kissed Draco gently on the lips.

“I’d rather drip hot wax on you and melt all your sass away,” he whispered and Draco shuddered in his arms.

He blinked several times, then mewled softly and buried his face against Harry’s chest where he stayed for several long minutes, inhaling, and exhaling slowly while Harry ran his fingertips up and down Draco’s spine.

Eventually, he drew back a little and looking at Harry with a mildly dazed expression, he smiled coyly.

His next words had Harry laughing aloud.

“I’m hungry,” he said, then blushed.

Harry checked his wristwatch and discovering that it was nearly eight pm in the evening he offered a home-cooked meal or takeaway.

Draco chose the home-cooked meal but stipulated that they would both cook.

Harry clicked his tongue.

“And since when are you making the rules?”

“I always make the rules; you just enforce them.”

Harry grinned.

“Touché, Malfoy, touché. Fine, we’ll cook together but I have a little requirement of my own.”

“What is it?”

“You stay naked, no clothes for you. Also, you’ll sit on my lap and let me feed you.”

Draco smirked and replied without hesitation.

“Deal, Sir.”

Harry kissed him and they cuddled for another few minutes, then grabbed a quick shower and finally headed downstairs after Harry dressed in a pair or of loose grey pyjama bottoms and a black t-shirt. Once in the kitchen, they discarded the idea of cooking and prepared sandwiches instead. They also prepared a salad and made some tea, then settled down to enjoy their late dinner while chatting about this and that and revelling in the truly relaxed and familiar atmosphere.

Somehow, it felt like they’d been doing this for years. It was perfect. They had managed to forge an incredibly close bond and Harry was sure that, no matter what the future had in store for them, nothing was ever going to be strong enough to rock their boat. They had a rock-solid foundation and they always were open and honest with each other. Their love was passionate and deep and the level of trust they’d managed to establish between them was one of a kind; one, Harry suspected, his parents had found in each other.

He smiled to himself, then reached for his glass of cool white wine and lifted it up. Draco did the same and gently clinking their glasses together, Harry made a toast.

“To us, Draco, may this last forever.”

Draco looked at him for a long moment, then smiled and inclined his head.

“To us, Harry, forever.”

* * *

 


	72. Take Me Higher - The First Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, this chapter and the next two were originally supposed to be one big chapter but I decided, at the last minute, to split them. I think it reads better that way.
> 
> And that's the only reason why the chapter count of the story has changed.
> 
> Do enjoy.
> 
> Love,  
> Selly

* * *

The first time they attempted to incorporate wax play into their playtime, Harry asked Draco to join him upstairs in the playroom. As per their rules, Draco gently knocked on the open door and stood in the doorframe, patiently waiting for Harry to invite him into the room. He was barefoot and the tips of his toes touched the threshold. Draco stood with his back straight and his arms resting by his sides. He did not slack or slump but held himself with a kind of elegance, Harry couldn’t help but admire.

“Come in, my little prince.”

Harry gave him permission to enter the room and once he’d approached him, Harry let his fingers slide through Draco’s hair, kissed him softly and put Draco’s collar on him. The grey snakeskin one, he’d purchased on a whim a couple of weeks ago, knowing Draco would love it and would treasure the opportunity to wear it around the house. Once Draco wore his collar and had enjoyed a few moments of adjusting to the feel of it around his neck, Harry asked him to strip naked, lie down on his back on top of the bed, and spread his arms and legs away from him, just like a starfish.

Instead of restraining him, which was what Harry usually did, he braced himself on his arms and covering Draco’s lithe warm and naked body with his own clothed body, he spent an extraordinary amount of time simply kissing him. He started with peppering Draco’s lips with tiny kisses, then claimed his lips in a slow sensual kiss that left Draco breathless and pleading for more. Harry, of course, obliged and deepening the kiss, he playfully toyed with Draco’s tongue, winding his own around it, teasing it, then quickly slithering just a little out of reach when Draco attempted to join into the game.

After a while, he trailed a series of kisses along Draco’s jawline and covered the sensitive pale skin on his neck with a thousand little kisses, licks, and gentle nips. When Draco tried to wrap his arms around him to keep him close, he pulled away and waited. Steadily holding Draco’s gaze, Harry took his hands, moved them over his head and pressed them firmly into the mattress.

“That’s where they’ll stay, my love. No touching, my little prince.”

He whispered the order against Draco’s kiss-swollen, glistening dark pink lips and when Draco responded with a shaky, breathless _Yes, Sir_ , he smiled and proceeded to claim Draco’s neck, using it as is own little playground.

Once Draco was wanton and desperate for more, even going as far as to beg him to take things further, Harry covered the rest of his body in kisses. He touched and kissed and stroked and licked and caressed and sank his teeth into Draco’s pale flesh. His nipples responded beautifully and soon enough a thin sheen of sweat covered his body though the slightly salty taste did not deter Harry. If anything, he relished in the fact that he was able to evoke that reaction in Draco with several well-placed kisses.

Draco’s hard cock stood up proudly, the base nestled in a fine dusting of light blond hair and the tip covered in a faint crystalline layer of precome. It twitched, silently begging for attention. Draco’s balls were tight, full, and heavy — a clear sign of how turned on he was and how much he craved release, which really wasn’t a surprise since Harry had been a bit devious and denied him the pleasure of an orgasm for the past week. It hadn’t been a punishment but rather a preparation for today and while Draco had been somewhat reluctant to agree to the stipulation, he’d played along beautifully.

When Harry kissed along the inside of his thighs, Draco automatically spread his legs further apart, offering himself up to him. Harry appreciated the gesture but ignored it for now. This was his game and his rules and he intended to take all the time in the world.

Rather than laying a hand on Draco’s cock or working his fingers into him, Harry produced a long white soy candle, however, when he showed it to Draco, he froze and a tremor surged through him.

It took several reassuring kisses and the promise that he wouldn’t light the candle — just like they’d discussed — to calm him down. Once Draco had relaxed and settled, Harry took his hand and squeezing it lightly, he ran the candle’s wick along the inside of his forearm, over the crook of his elbow and along his biceps, then the side of his neck, his jawline and eventually over his Adam’s apple, which bobbed when Draco swallowed hard.

Harry took his sweet time.

He teased every inch of Draco’s body with the candle’s wick, arousing him, driving him wanton with the desire for more — it was a light touch, lighter even than a feather, but it still had the ability to set Draco mind and body on fire, in the best possible way, of course.

Every now and then, Harry paused to kiss and praise Draco, who flushed and mewled in appreciation of Harry lathering him with sweet words of praise, words that had the power to twist his mind even further and drive him closer and closer to the edge.

Harry used the candle’s wick to tease Draco’s erect nipples, then rolled the sensitive nubs between his fingers, pulling and twisting them, squeezing them between his thumb and forefinger. He let the candle’s wick slide down Draco’s front, teased his navel, the insides of his thighs, his calves, toes and once he had reached those, he slowly moved back up and slipped the candle into Draco’s hand, instructing him to wrap his fingers around it and hold on tight.

“Don’t let go, my precious, not until I tell you so.”

Draco obeyed without the slightest hint of hesitation and Harry rewarded him with a deeply passionate kiss.

“You did so well, my little prince, I think you deserve a treat, I think you deserve to come.”

The whispered promise of an orgasm turned Draco into a boneless, pleading mess and Harry took full advantage of it. He retrieved a phial of lube from the right pocket of his jeans and forgoing Draco’s cock, he ever so slowly worked first one, then two fingers into Draco’s tight channel and finding that sweet spot inside him, Harry pressed the tips of his fingers against it, rubbed over it and teased several toe-curling orgasms from Draco, who, lost in the throes of passion, began to mutter incoherently.

Instead of words, nonsensical gibberish fell from his lips and by the time Harry took off his own clothes and sank his cock deep into the tight velvety head of Draco’s arse and filled him with every inch of his throbbing prick, Draco was a sobbing wreck. His arse was so sensitive that he succumbed to another earth-shattering prostate orgasm as Harry pushed into him and whimpered and pleaded and begged Harry to allow him to spill his seed but Harry made him hold out until he’d reached his own climax and shot several hot streaks of his come deep into Draco.

Once Draco’s arse was full of his come, Harry replaced his softening cock with his fingers and using his own come for lubrication purposes, he teased another three orgasms from Draco’s prostate, then finally wrapped his hand around Draco’s cock and stroking it steadily, he granted him his final release. It only took several minutes worth of twisting his hand up and down Draco’s sensitive shaft and when he fell over the edge, he arched his back sharply off the bed, shuddered and came on a guttural groan of Harry’s name, thanking him repeatedly while his come splashed onto his front, his thighs and Harry’s hand.

Rather unwilling to vanish all of it with a cleaning charm, Harry got a ridiculous amount of pleasure out of making Draco, who was still half-delirious and floated somewhere between reality and his own fantasy world, watch as he licked his come off his hand. Draco keened and with a smirk, Harry offered him his fingertip, coated in come, and after he’d licked it off, Harry greedily kissed him, delighting in the rush he got from not only having fed Draco his own come but also being able to taste it as he plunged his tongue into Draco’s mouth and hungrily claimed what was his.

Afterwards, he refreshed them both with several gentle cleaning charms and raising the room temperature a little further, he tenderly held Draco for the longest time, stroking his hair affectionately and plying him with as many tiny kisses as he wanted. He let his fingers run along Draco’s spine and enveloping him in a protective embrace, he watched as Draco drifted between wakefulness and light slumber.

It was only when he was sure that Draco felt more like himself, that he coaxed him off the bed and into the bath, which he’d filled with hot water and a wonderful mixture of reinvigorating essential oils. Upon Draco’s coy request, complete with batting his eyelashes and sticking his bottom lip out in a petulant pout, he joined him in the tub and took over washing Draco’s body and hair.

That evening, instead of preparing a homecooked meal, Harry abducted a very willingly Draco and took him on an exquisite, and very romantic, date to _La Dame de Pic London_ in Trinity Square, a five-star French brasserie set within the stunning former Port of London Authority headquarters that offered inventive high-end menus of perfectly prepared French cuisine. He had no doubt that Draco would talk about that dinner for days to come and he was rather looking forward to hearing him wax lyrical about tonight’s food.

They ended the evening with a relaxed stroll along the River Thames and enjoyed a magical sunset over the South Bank, with the Victorian lamp-posts glowing above the Thames and the dramatic architecture of Westminster lit up from below, as well as clear views of the Tower Bridge. London was always magical, even the Muggle parts of the city — if one knew where and when to look for the beauty the British capital offered and Harry most definitely knew where to look, especially when it came to impressing Draco.

They walked hand in hand, chatting about this and that, and stopped occasionally to share a kiss or stand close to each other while they looked out over the river and drew each other’s attention towards various attractions and sights. As night began to fall over the city, South Bank began to quieten down and they took the opportunity to appreciate the beauty of the city without the throb of commuters and tourists. After an afternoon of play and a scrumptious meal, the quiet was invigorating and refreshing as was the opportunity to spend quality time together. Harry doubted that photographers from the Prophet would spot them but even if they did, he had no problem showing Draco off to the world, magical and non-magical.

It wasn’t only Draco who got high when they played, he did too, albeit in a different way. Draco’s submission to him was a precious gift he cherished above all. It wasn’t something Harry took for granted and he felt privileged that Draco had chosen him, that he trusted him enough to explore and embrace that side of him instead of ignoring it and pushing his desires out of the way. Their mutual love for each other was yet another thing, Harry didn’t think he’d ever take for granted.

After all, they’d both been through, not just this past year but ever since they’d been born, having someone who loved him unconditionally and regardless of all the bullshit the press usually wrote about The Saviour of the Wizarding World, well, it was all Harry had ever wanted.

Despite their less-than-perfect relationship at Hogwarts, they’d somehow found something special in each other. It wasn’t just the fact that they were in love or shared a mutual desire to be kinky and it certainly wasn’t Draco’s submission or Harry’s need to dominate. No, it was the fact that they could talk about anything and everything. Draco understood, sometimes better than anyone. He listened, he offered advice, and he had the uncanny ability to lighten the mood with his cheeky sass. He most definitely took every opportunity he got to mock him but it was always affectionate and never with the intent to hurt. He cared. Truly. Deeply. Madly.

They returned home well after ten o’clock in the evening and exhausted, they both got ready for bed in record time and crawled under the warm covers. Harry invited Draco into his arms and he didn’t have to offer twice — Draco was a sucker for pre-sleep cuddles and never ever wasted an opportunity to relish in one. They snuggled close and kissed for a while, then fell asleep heavily entangled in each other’s arms and with no discernible sign as to where Harry began and Draco ended.

Neither of them stirred until the early hours of the next morning when Draco cheekily woke Harry with a blowjob that ended in a round of hot slow-burning sex — with more than seventy per cent of it being teasing and dirty talk — that started in bed and continued over coffee and breakfast and finally found its climax in the shower.

* * *

 


	73. Take Me Higher - The Second Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part Two of what used to be a very, very long chapter.  
> I hope you're enjoying Draco's journey into wax play - I certainly had fun writing it.  
> It's a slow burn ( _pun intended!_ )
> 
> Love,  
> Selly

* * *

The second time they attempted to incorporate wax play into their playtime, Harry gave Draco an entire week’s notice and told him exactly what to expect, repeatedly, and patiently. They talked about the scene over coffee, over breakfast, over lunch at work in Harry’s office with the door locked and warded, and, of course, over dinner. It wasn’t always a very long conversation but whenever either one of them brought the subject up, they talked it through.

They even talked about it instead of paying attention to the movie Draco had been adamant they watch and one morning, after getting up ridiculously early, they talked about it in the shower, in-between sharing several heated kisses. That conversation was decidedly shorter than all the others and inevitably ended with Harry pushing Draco to his knees and Draco sucking him off. After that, Harry pushed Draco up against the tiled and wet shower wall and fucked him slowly and thoroughly with two fingers while Draco held on to a steel handle — Harry had installed it exactly for that purpose — high above his head and kept his long legs firmly wrapped around Harry’s waist.

The last time they talked about it was the night before when Draco had tried to focus on an important legal document but hadn’t been able to concentrate for long enough to make any sense out of the legal nonsense printed on the thick parchment. Frustrated, he’d sought solace in Harry’s arms and they’d snuggled up on the sofa instead.

That conversation had not ended in hot sex but with Draco reassuring Harry that while he was nervous, he wasn’t afraid. Harry stole a few kisses in return and to ease his nerves, he treated Draco to a shoulder rub, then held him in his arms as he slowly drifted off to sleep, mumbling something about being in love and blissfully happy.

Harry kissed the nape of his neck tenderly, lingered there for several minutes and closing his eyes, he inhaled Draco’s familiar scent; the citrusy smell of his body wash and the ever-present gentle fragrance of his perfume, bergamot, oakmoss and blackcurrant, and fell asleep with a big silly grin on his face.

The next morning, Harry allowed Draco to sleep in but before leaving the room, he left a note on Draco’s bedside table, requesting that Draco only dress in a pair of black boxer briefs for the day. He also left Draco’s collar, the fancy mid-night blue one this time, sitting on the nightstand. Gathering up his clothes, he quietly left the room and closed the door, choosing to shower upstairs in their playroom. While he didn’t think showering in the en-suite would rouse Draco from his sleep, he didn’t want to take any chances. Draco deserved all the rest he could get.

Once dressed in a pair of tailormade black chinos and a burgundy long-sleeved shirt, Harry made his way downstairs, put on a pair of black Oxfords, and drank a cup of strong coffee while leaning back against the kitchen counter. He ate a plain sandwich with butter, swiss cheese, and thin slices of cucumber, then checked all the cupboards and prepared a lengthy shopping list.

List and several reusable shopping bags in hand, he fastened his wand holster around his forearm and slipped his wand into it. He put on his favourite black leather jacket and made a half-hearted attempt at styling his unruly hair but gave up on it less than two minutes into it. Leaving his hair be, as usual, it was a black mess of unmanageable strands, he left Grimmauld Place and headed to the local supermarket to fill up their empty kitchen cupboards.

He returned long before Draco crawled out of bed and even managed to take care of a couple of work matters. When he heard Draco pottering about upstairs and going into the bathroom for a shower, he prepared a scrumptious but healthy breakfast for Draco to indulge in once he was ready.

Draco joined him downstairs some forty minutes later, showered and with his hair styled to perfection — the fact that it had taken him less than an hour to get ready amused Harry but he kept his thoughts to himself, deciding that today wasn’t the day he wanted to tease Draco about his extended bathroom habits.

As Harry had requested, Harry had only dressed in a pair of black boxer briefs and the waistband of his underwear claimed he belonged to Harry James Potter — words that never failed to amuse Harry.

While Harry had been the one who had charmed Draco’s new boxers to spell out that message in the first place, he always got a kick out of seeing it and smiling, he welcomed Draco with a warm embrace and a slow kiss.

After inquiring whether he’d slept well and whether he wanted coffee or tea, Harry helped Draco place the collar around his neck. Only magic could lock the mid-night blue collar into place. The spell corresponded to an ancient rune and Draco was not able to trace the rune and cast the spell himself but Harry always relished in being the one to fasten Draco’s collar around his neck.

Once the collar was in place, Harry traced the O-ring with his index finger and as his bare skin connected with the stainless steel, gentle vibrations flowed through the collar and Draco shuddered a little. He smiled softly and lowered his gaze a little.

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Hm, anytime, my little prince,” Harry replied.

He drew him in for one last kiss, then asked him to have his breakfast and told him to enjoy his coffee. While Draco ate, Harry kept him company at the kitchen table but worked through several files related to open and current Auror cases — he wasn’t exactly thrilled with having to review those cases on a weekend but being the director of the department and the assistant director of the DMLE, he had no choice.

Every so often, he stopped to casually converse with Draco and they shared a few laughs. He didn’t have to tell Draco to take care of the dishes and wipe down the kitchen counters and while he did, Harry leant back in his chair, snacked on a few green grapes from the fruit bowl in the centre of the kitchen table, and silently watched him.

He smiled and when Draco, after finishing his task, approached him, placed his hands behind his back, and elegantly sank to his knees in front of him, then lowered his head submissively, Harry felt his heart flutter. He sat forward, softly ran his fingers through Draco’s hair, and nudging his chin upward, he kissed him.

“You’re such a good little prince.”

He praised Draco for his fluent obedience and kissed him again when he flushed lightly.

“Unfortunately, I’ve got a bit more work to do, so I’d like you to take care of some things around the house for me. Will you be my good boy and do that for me, my love?”

Draco nodded.

“Yes, Sir.”

He whispered his response and Harry caressed his cheeks.

“Very well, there’s not a lot to do today. I’d like you to make up our bed, the covers need changing, and then take care of the laundry. You can use some household charms for that; however, I expect that you’ll clean my Auror robes and my black dragonhide boots the Muggle way. When you’re done with that, I’d like you to check the cupboards and come up with two suggestions for our lunch. Write them down in your journal along with the recipe and I’ll choose. Are my requests acceptable to you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Draco answered without the slightest bit of hesitation and Harry smiled.

“Excellent, come find me when you’re done with your chores, my little prince.”

Draco nodded.

“May I be excused, Sir?”

“Certainly.”

Harry leant in and placed a gentle kiss on Draco’s lips, then allowed him to get up and go about his tasks while he turned his attention back to his reports, losing himself in a lengthy incident report that required his review and signature. He was mildly surprised when Draco, some five minutes later, placed a steaming cup of Assam black tea with a thick slice of lemon, on a coaster in front of him and looking up at Draco, he nodded approvingly.

“Thank you, my love,” he said.

Draco inclined his head, then turned to leave the kitchen but Harry just a second faster. He closed his fingers around Draco’s wrist and tugging gently, he stopped him from leaving, then rose to his feet, combed his fingers through Draco’s hair and kissed him.

“You’re an incredibly fast learner and I’m very proud of you, my little prince.”

The praise had the desired effect. Draco’s cheeks flushed and his cheeks bloomed in a dark shade of pink. He pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and bit it repeatedly, then blinked and smiled shyly.

“Sir mustn’t forget to drink,” he whispered, his voice low and barely louder than a breath of air.

“Hm, yes, and it’s very good of you to make sure that I do, even though I didn’t ask for it. You’re perfect, my little prince.”

Draco flushed harder and Harry kissed him, then sent him off to complete his chores. Feeling just a bit cheeky, he didn’t quite manage to resist the urge to smack Draco’s buttocks and delighted in the surprised yelp that fell from Draco’s lips. He turned his head and for a moment, Harry was sure that Draco would make some sort of sassy comment but instead, he merely blinked, pressed his lips together, and then walked out of the kitchen.

Harry smirked to himself and taking his files and his hot drink, he moved into his study. There, he continued with his work while idly sipping on his tea and quietly appreciated Draco’s sweet gesture, a definite sign of how much he cared and loved him.

For a while, Harry lost himself in his work and even though he wasn’t particularly impressed with the additional weekend workload, he never was, he powered through and signed the last file a few minutes before Draco knocked on the open door to his study, his journal in hand. They briefly discussed Draco’s two recipes and it didn’t take Harry long to choose a dish. He opted for the linguine with bacon, peaches, and gorgonzola cheese and Draco offered to make a tomato salad with grilled halloumi and herbs to go with it. Harry approved it with a smile and his stomach was rather looking forward to the scrumptious meal.

After lunch, Harry chose to relax in the living room and wasn’t at all surprised when Draco joined him, even though he’d given him an hour off to do as he wished. Draco settled on the thick silky grey rug at his feet and lost himself in a law book, he’d fetched from his own study upstairs. Harry was still in the process of furnishing it for Draco but the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that lined two the room’s four walls had already become home to most of Draco’s reference books.

For a while, Harry simply watched Draco, then he reached for his own book, though his was entirely unrelated to work, and lost himself in the story. About an hour later, Draco excused himself to go to the toilet and when he returned, he brought two glasses of cool lemon water with him. He handed one to Harry but when he was about to sit down on the floor, Harry stopped him and invited him to join him on the sofa instead. Once Draco had comfortably settled in his arms, he kissed him gently, slowly and without the slightest bit of hurry.

They snogged for a while, then turned their attention back to their respective books, though sometime after half-past three in the afternoon, Harry put his book down, rose from the sofa and stretched himself.

“I reckon, it’s about time I get you in the mood for a little more, my little prince, don’t you think?” he teased and noted Draco’s sharp intake of breath.

He pulled him to his feet and threading his fingers through Draco’s hair, he kissed him softly, then took his hand and pulled him into the kitchen where they enjoyed a cup of tea each and some raspberry biscuits. The afternoon snack had clearly been a good idea because Draco grinned all the way up to the playroom and did not flinch when Harry asked him to kneel by the bed with his hands behind his back and his head lowered.

While Draco kneeled, Harry spread a thick soft cotton sheet on top of the black silken sheets and tugging it into place, he flicked his hand at the door and wandlessly closed it. Another flick turned on some calming background music and keeping the volume low, Harry walked over to the sofa on the other side of the room. He stepped out of his shoes and neatly placed them beside the sofa, then pulled his burgundy long-sleeved shirt over his head in one fluid motion. He folded it carefully and placed it over the sofa’s armrest, then took off his black chinos and slipped into a pair of worn jeans instead. He didn’t mind getting some wax onto those and retrieving a single candle from the wax play drawer, he’d prepared for Draco some time ago, he returned to the bed and sat down on the edge of it, then shuffled and keeping his back straight, he moved into a cross-legged position.

Once comfortable, he invited Draco up onto the bed but requested that he kneel and sit back on his haunches. He wasn’t quite prepared for the utterly provocative way Draco crawled up onto the bed and felt his cock twitch with excitement. It tried to entice him to forgo his plans and fuck Draco instead-but Harry resolutely refused to listen to anything his prick had to say.

Instead, he placed the candle on the bed beside him and focused all his attention on Draco.

“Give me your hands, my little prince.”

Draco’s head jerked up a little but he didn’t lift it high enough to actually look at him and slowly pulling his hands out from behind his back he held them out to Harry, who took them and squeezed them gently, then rubbed his thumbs over the backs of Draco’s hands. He felt the slight tremor and requested that Draco look at him.

As Draco lifted his head and noticed that he’d changed his outfit but had chosen to remain topless, he inhaled sharply and the distinct desire to touch glimmered in his eyes.

Harry smiled.

He squeezed Draco’s hands again.

“Are you scared, my little prince.”

Draco shook his head.

“No, Sir. I’m just— I’m a lit—little—”

“Nervous?” Harry offered.

Draco nodded.

“Yes, Sir.”

His cheeks flushed a little and Harry smiled.

“Don’t be nervous,” he said softly. “I’ve got you; you know you’re safe with me and I’ll take such good care of you, my little prince.”

He placed Draco’s hands on his shoulders, then let himself fall back against the pillows and uncrossing his legs, he bent them at the knee. His change in position and the fact that he had his fingers tightly wrapped around Draco’s wrists, meant that Draco had no choice but to move with him and bracing himself on his arms, he hovered above him.

“What would you like to do to me right now, my little prince?” Harry asked.

For a second, Draco looked confused, then a coy smile spread across his lips and he blinked.

“I’d like to kiss you, Sir,” he said shyly.

“Where?”

“Your lips, Sir.”

“Hm, and then?” Harry pressed.

“Your neck, Sir.”

“I’d like that. Anywhere else?”

“Down your chest, Sir.”

“That sounds delightful, my little prince.”

Harry smiled.

Draco flushed.

“What would you like to do with your hands, my little prince?”

“If— If— If I’m allowed to— to move them, Sir, then I’d like to touch you.”

“Touch me how?”

Draco hummed and his blush intensified.

“I, erm, I— I just— just touch you, feel— feel your skin against my fin—fingers.”

Harry found Draco’s stammer utterly adorable. It only ever surfaced when they were playing. Any other time, Draco was in full control of his speech and spoke with complete confidence and conviction. When they played, he didn’t have that mask to hide behind and as such a different side of him shone through. A shyer, sweeter, quieter side. His submissive side. The one that revelled in praise and willingly obeyed any order Harry gave him — naturally within the bounds of their agreed rules.

“I’d like you touching me, my little prince,” Harry said.

He loosened his hold on Draco’s wrists, ran his hands up Draco’s arms and slithering them around his neck, he pulled Draco down and into a kiss. Draco came willingly and for the next quarter of an hour, they simply kissed while Harry delighted in Draco’s soft touches, his gentle caresses and the sweet sounds he made whenever Harry deepened the kiss or responded to the tender way Draco’s fingertips ghosted over nearly every inch of his exposed torso.

Once he thought Draco had relaxed enough, Harry slowly ended the game and instructing Draco to return to a kneeling position, he retrieved the candle, which had rolled underneath his arse. He showed it to Draco but made no attempt to force him to take it and didn’t light the wick either.

Instead, he gave Draco several moments to acquaint himself with the presence of the candle. He took one of his hands and finding the pulse point on his wrist, he caressed it with his thumb, drawing even slow circle after even slow circle.

A few minutes of silence passed between them, then Draco inhaled deeply and exhaled.

“May I have the candle, Sir?” he asked quietly.

Harry smiled.

“Absolutely, my sweet little prince,” he said.

He offered the candle to Draco and waited patiently for him to take it. Once he had and once Draco had wrapped his fingers around the soft soy wax, Harry wrapped his own hand around Draco’s and squeezed gently.

“Are you ready, my love?”

Draco shrugged.

“I don’t know, I think so,” he whispered.

Harry drew another circle over the pulse point on the inside of his wrist.

“Shall we light the candle?”

Draco breathed deeply, hesitated for a second, then nodded.

“My little prince, remember, none of that wax is going to drip on your skin. It’ll be my arm, maybe my jeans and perhaps the bed, but not you. You’re safe, I promise.”

“I know, I trust you, Harry.”

Harry smiled, his expression warm and soft, just like his voice.

“That’s good, my love,” he said.

He removed his hand from Draco’s wrist, flicked it over the top of the candle and a mumbled spell later, the wick was aflame. The small fire flickered brightly between them and Draco inhaled sharply but did not let go of the candle, nor did he use his safeword. Still, Harry felt the slight tremor in his hand and gently steadied his grip.

“You’ll have to wait for a bit until some wax has melted and gathered at the top,” he said softly.

Draco nodded mutely in silent understanding.

They watched the steadily burning flame and eventually enough wax had melted and gathered around the burning wick. Harry offered the inside of his wand holster-free forearm and holding it at a safe distance, he gently guided Draco into tipping the candle over. The melted wax, which had gathered at the top, fell through the air and landed on his forearm and Harry made sure to adjust the position of the candle bit by bit to avoid a huge blob of wax pooling in one place.

To him, the wax didn’t feel especially hot but it still stung when it connected with his bare skin. He pressed his lips together to stop himself from hissing; a low hum came out instead. It had been a very long time since he’d last felt wax on his skin and the sensation felt decidedly strange, although it was the look in Draco’s eyes that made his cock twitch and the mild arousal, that had been pooling low in his groin, sky-rocketed.

Draco’s silvery-grey eyes had darkened several shades and his pupils had dilated just a little. He hadn’t closed his mouth completely and the tip of his perfectly pink tongue darted out and slid over his sweet red lips in one fluid motion. For one short moment, Harry was thoroughly mesmerised, then he snapped out of it and focused on the candle. He continued to guide Draco’s hand and twisting it a little, he allowed yet more of the hot melted wax to drip onto a still bare spot on his arm as he watched Draco’s ever-changing expression.

His eyes followed the trail of wax all the way from the candle to his arm, and Harry heard him gasp when the wax hit his skin, trailed alongside his forearm, and slowly hardened.

“Do you like this, my little prince?” Harry whispered. “Do you like watching the hot wax drip down on my arm?”

It took Draco three attempts before he managed to answer. At first, he cleared his throat but despite that, the words still didn’t make it past his lips. Then, he nodded and his hand shook a little. Harry steadied it gently and finally, Draco managed to answer his question.

“Yes, Sir.”

He murmured the words and holding the candle upright, Harry shuffled a little closer and leant in to kiss Draco on the lips, then pulled back and slowly loosened his supporting hold on Draco’s hand. He left him to hold the candle all by himself but steadied his wrist ever so gently to stop his hand from shaking.

A little bit of the melted wax flowed over the edge of the candle and slowly trailed down the side but hardened long before it reached Draco’s hand. Harry offered him his forearm again.

“Tip it over, gently, slowly,” he said.

Draco hesitated for a moment, then followed his instruction and yet more wax landed on Harry’s bare skin. He hummed softly and watched as the colour of Draco’s eyes changed yet again and his pupils expanded even further.

“Harry.”

Draco breathed his name with a dreamy sort of undertone and withdrawing his hand completely, Harry simply sat back and let Draco spread the melted wax on his forearm, taking great care to distribute the wax evenly — compared to his bronze tan, the white colour of the wax was a stark contrast and where each drop of melted wax had initially felt like a hot sting, it was now just a dull sort of lingering warmth and Harry relished in it. He preferred to be the one in charge of the candle but Draco’s determination to get things right was mesmerising and Harry was rather addicted to his passion and care.

He let Draco continue for a while but eventually gently took the candle from him and holding it firmly, he let the flame flicker for a few moments, then, just as he was about to extinguish it with a wave of his hand, Draco offered him the back of his hand.

Harry looked at him and momentarily held his gaze, then raised his eyebrow in a silent question.

“Please,” Draco whispered.

“Please what, my little prince? What do you want?” Harry asked.

“Just a drop, please, Sir.”

Draco’s needy undertone made Harry smile. He moved his hand and a little bit of wax ran down the candle.

“Are you sure, my little prince?”

Draco nodded.

“Please let me try, just a drop. I want to know what it feels like.”

“Very well, just a drop.”

Harry took Draco’s hand, squeezed it, and circled his thumb over the back of it, massaging it gently. He lifted the candle a little higher up, then without warning tipped it over and dropped a small amount of melted wax onto the back of Draco’s hand.

Draco gasped and a low moan fell from his lips. He stared with his eyes open wide and swallowed hard.

“How does it feel?” Harry asked.

Draco shook his head.

“I can’t describe it, don’t ask me,” he breathed.

Harry smiled and tipped the candle over again, adding a little more wax to the back of Draco’s hand.

He gasped again and his hand twitched, almost as though he wanted to pull it away but couldn’t bring himself to complete the action.

“My brave little prince, you’re so good, you’re doing really well, don’t be scared now.”

“I’m not, Sir.”

Draco’s whispered response, so bold yet so submissive, made Harry smile and he tipped the candle for the third time. By now a large pool of wax had gathered on the back of Draco’s hand and it was slowly hardening. Harry took that as his cue and flicking his hand, he extinguished the candle, then tipped it over one last time and poured the remaining bit of wax over Draco’s hand.

Keeping Draco’s hand very still, he leant forward, kissed his lips, then climbed off the bed and placed the candle on the small nightstand beside the massive bed. He carefully peeled the hardened wax off his forearm and vanished it with a swish of his hand and a murmured spell, then relieved himself off his jeans and dragged his boxers down his legs along with it. He stepped out of his clothes, took his socks off and now completely naked, he got back up onto the bed.

Draco gave him a very appreciative once over, then lowered his head but Harry still saw the sensual way he licked his lips and leaning close, he pressed his mouth to Draco’s ear.

“Like what you see, my little prince?”

“ _Ngh_ , yes, Sir.”

Draco let out a low whimper and Harry reached between his legs and squeezed his half-hard cock through his boxers.

“Want it, my little prince?”

“Please, Sir.”

A needy little whine fell from Draco’s lips and capturing them in a deep kiss, Harry pushed him onto his back, pulled away and reaching for Draco’s wax-covered hand, he carefully peeled the still-pliable wax off and rolled it into a ball, then wordlessly cast a spell on it that lowered its temperature until it felt like an ice cube. He placed it on the bed, divested Draco off his boxers and told him to place his arms above his head.

Draco shuddered but obeyed and as he moved his arms, Harry fastened snug-fitting leather cuffs around his wrists, effectively restraining him to the bed.

“Spread your legs for me, my little prince,” Harry whispered.

He braced himself on his arms, pressed his hard cock against Draco’s semi-erect one and rolled his hips, sliding his cock up against Draco’s and causing delicious friction.

Draco moaned, trembled beneath him and Harry repeated the motion several times over, then pulled away and reaching for the charmed ball of wax, he gently let it slide down Draco’s forearm, trailing it over the remnants of the Dark Mark. Draco hissed and shivered, arched his back and moaned.

“It’s cold, Sir.”

Harry chuckled.

“Hm, yes, it is,” he acknowledged and continued teasing Draco.

He let it hover millimetres away from Draco’s heated skin, teased every inch, rubbed it over his sensitive nipples and eventually let it rest in Draco’s navel, watching as he shivered and shuddered and fought his hardest not to squirm too much.

“Don’t drop it, or I’ll turn you over and it’s a spanking you’ll get, my sweet little prince,” he said with a warning undertone, then reached out to retrieve some lube from underneath one of the pillows on the far side of the bed. He coated his hand with plenty of it and without warning, he closed his fingers around Draco’s now fully erect cock and began to stroke it.

Draco groaned and Harry could feel how hard he fought to remain still, to keep the cool wax ball exactly where he’d put it. Giving Draco’s cock a firm tuck, he stroked it with deliberation and bit back a dirty smirk. He knew that Draco had no hope of succeeding, the task was impossible, but he wanted to watch and see exactly how much willpower Draco had and for how long he’d try and fight to stop the inevitable from happening.

Even though Harry alternated between slow and fast strokes and gentle and hard tugs, Draco barely lasted ten minutes. When Harry pressed his thumb against the underside of the head of his cock and drew very small circles, that was the moment Draco lost it. He let out a long moan, bucked his hips almost violently and the cool wax ball rolled down his side and soundlessly landed on the bed.

Harry picked it up, showed it to Draco and clicked his tongue in mock-disappointment.

An anguished half-sob escaped Draco and his bottom lip quivered. His eyes filled with unshed tears and vanishing the makeshift ice cube, Harry braced himself on one arm, leant over him and kissed him softly, sweetly.

“You did amazingly well, my love.”

“I failed, Sir,” Draco murmured, looking quite upset.

Harry chuckled softly against his lips and nipped at his bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth and biting it gently.

“You would have anyway. That task was impossible,” he said after he’d let go of Draco’s tongue.

“ _Ngh_ , devious devil, I hate you.”

Harry smirked.

“Do you really? Such a potty mouth, so little respect for Sir. You do deserve a spanking, don’t you, my little prince?”

Draco inhaled sharply and looked at him with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry, Sir.”

“ _Tsk_ , the damage’s done. Now, are you going to turn over or do I have to make you?”

Harry pulled away and watched as Draco gnawed on his bottom lip, dithered for a small moment, then rolled onto his back and shuffled until he was on his knees with his arse firmly up in the air. He rested his forearms on the bed and pressed his forehead against it.

“Punish me, Sir.”

“Why?”

“I've got a potty mouth.”

Harry smiled.

“You absolutely do, my sassy little prince.”

With that, he landed the first blow and Draco shuddered but remained in position. Harry let several more blows rain down on his beautiful pale arse cheeks and marvelled at the sight as they slowly turned red and Draco moaned and huffed out a breath of air with each smack.

After a while, Harry stopped and rubbing and kneading Draco’s sore arse cheeks, he reached between his legs and stroked Draco’s cock slowly and with absolutely no desire to bring him closer to his orgasm. All he wanted was to tease, something he was very, very good at. Draco knew that much. It still didn’t stop him from pleading and begging for his release.

Harry summoned the phial of lube, coated his hand in it, and slipping his thumb between Draco’s cheeks, he pressed it against his fluttering hole and was extraordinarily pleased when it, after a short while, gave in and allowed him to enter. Draco moaned and trembled and Harry teased him with wild abandon until he’d turned him into a moaning wreck, incapable of stringing two words together to form a coherent sentence.

Once he’d accomplished that, he lathered his cock in plenty of lube and sank it into Draco’s tight hole, claiming him, making him his all over again. He fucked him slowly, at his own leisure and stroked his achingly hard prick in time with his thrusts. Draco whimpered and moaned beneath him, pleading with him to give him something, anything.

Harry let the fervent begging wash over him, let it consume him, and not long after, he felt his orgasm unfurl. It slowly burned its way through him, ignited every part of him and when he finally shot his come into Draco’s tight channel, he was breathless and felt just a little out of sorts. His forearm thrummed a little and one glance at it showed him reddened skin from where he’d allowed Draco to drip wax all over it. It didn’t glimmer quite as red as the skin on Draco’s arse but it was most definitely irritated.

“Please, Sir, please.”

Draco whimpered beneath him and Harry stroked his cock and twisted his fingers around it, teasing it, just like he’d been doing since before he’d started to fuck Draco.

“ _Ngh_ , please, Sir, please let me come.”

Harry pulled out of Draco, covered him with his own body and keeping him in a kneeling position and pinned down, he pressed his lips to Draco’s ear and exhaled.

“Beg me, my little prince, beg me to allow you to come.”

He hummed and Draco whined in response to the vibrations seeping through the sensitive, thin skin that covered the shell of his ear.

“Please, Sir, please, please, please. Please let me come, Sir, please. _Please_.”

“More.”

Harry made his demand and harshly twisted his hand around Draco’s cock, jerking it with determination.

Draco nearly sobbed.

“Ngh, please, please, please, I need to come, please, please, please, Sir, please. I’m so close, please.”

Harry sucked Draco’s earlobe into his mouth, bit down on it and relished in the loud gasp that filled the room. He drew things out for a few agonising moments, then relented.

“Come for me, my sweet little prince, come now.”

Draco did not need him to say it twice. He practically exploded over his hand, shooting rope after rope of his come onto the bedsheet. He groaned and as his limbs turned boneless, he fell forward and lay on the bed, panting hard.

Harry pulled back, cleaned his hands on the bedsheet, and releasing Draco’s wrists from the cuffs, he pulled him into his arms and held him tight, giving him ample time to come down from his incredible high.

They snuggled for the longest time. Draco was in no fit state to move and Harry wasn’t in the mood to force him out of bed before he was ready.

Instead, he summoned an electrolyte-replenishing potion and gently fed it to Draco with the help of a short thin straw, then eased his discomfort with a gentle cleaning charm and a wrapped him in a cocoon of warmth with a mild warming charm.

Draco promptly fell asleep and lost in his own fantasy world, he murmured something that didn’t really make sense but Harry enjoyed listening to it anyway. In response to Draco’s incoherent gibberish, he lovingly kissed his forehead and held him and assured him, for the third time, no less, that his legs were strong enough to carry him to the bathroom to have a shower.

Before stepping under the hot stream of water, Harry removed the fancy midnight blue collar, Draco loved so much, and as they showered together and Harry washed Draco with great care and affection. They kissed an awful lot and turned what could have been a fifteen-minute shower into a lazy affair that lasted just over half an hour.

Eventually, they dressed and after tidying up, Harry joined Draco downstairs in the kitchen where they consumed the leftovers from lunch, made sandwiches, and Draco ate more raspberry biscuits. They each enjoyed a large glass of wine and settled in the living room afterwards but paid no attention to the film they hotly debated over for fifteen minutes and snuggled up close instead. They quietly talked about the scene and Draco’s feelings about it, Harry peppered Draco with sweet little kisses and occasionally they glanced at the TV screen, shrugged, then resumed their conversation.

The film finished yet neither of them knew what had happened and for a while, they attempted to turn their attention to a comedy show. It didn’t captivate them and Harry quickly busied himself with kissing Draco senseless.

Draco didn’t have any objections whatsoever and cheekily suggested that they move things to the floor. What had started as an extended period of innocent snogging quickly turned into a heated battle of the tongues and a roll about the floor while the comedians on the screen made fun of the Muggle Prime Minister of Muggle Britain.

* * *

 


	74. Take Me Higher - The Third Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And finally, the third part of aforementioned very long chapter - this time, let me take you into Draco's head and show you what he thinks about the whole thing.
> 
> Love,  
> Selly

* * *

The third time they attempted to incorporate wax play into their playtime happened five days before his birthday and it properly blew Draco’s mind.

He found himself reeling over the defence counsel’s ridiculous decision to subpoena Harry to appear as a witness in front of the Wizengamot. Their intent was clear; they wanted to somehow discredit the Auror Department in a pathetic attempt to force the judge to declare a mistrial and Draco, as the leading prosecutor for the case was having none of it. Sadly, he was struggling not to be a bit dramatic about it and allowed his feelings about the whole matter to get the better of him.

Furious beyond imagination about having his entire case turned upside down, Draco lost it and what with only two days’ notice, he terrorised the legal assistants in his department until they scrambled and ran for their lives at the mere sound of his footsteps. At the sound of his voice, they fled the department, the hallways and even the canteen, which Draco visited perhaps once a year and only when he was desperate for coffee but too busy to leave the Ministry.

They did, however, get their jobs done and that was all that mattered to Draco, who couldn’t focus on anything but the fact that he would have to subject Harry to a healthy dose of his prosecutor’s charm, or sass. This meant channelling his dominant side, the one he only ever brought out to play when he stepped into a courtroom. He reserved it for exactly that purpose and perhaps for the one or other good-natured squabble with Caleb or a game of chess with Ron. At home with Harry, he relied on a cheekier version of his sass, which sometimes got him his way and sometimes got him in trouble. He usually liked either outcome.

Harry, on the other hand, did not feel intimidated by the idea of appearing as a witness in front of the Wizengamot at all. It wasn’t the first time he’d done so and it certainly would be the last. He, therefore, found Draco’s headless-chicken-act rather amusing although when he outright told Draco so, he found himself on the receiving end of several menacing glowers and the one or the other dark scowl as well as the promise of a stinging hex of epic proportions.

While he sat on the sofa in what was now _their_ living room, with one leg comfortably thrown over the other, Draco paced up and down in front of him and explained, in minute detail, that he planned to cross-examine Harry, while, at the same time, threatening bloody murder — a promise he directed at the defence counsel, who, in his opinion, was deliberately stepping on his toes, making him look ridiculous.

“Potter, I swear, if you or your team made even the slightest error during the entire investigation process, if you thought the wrong thing, if any of you as much as breathed inappropriately during the interrogations or if you forgot to dot your i’s and cross your t’s in any of the reports, I will tear you a new one in open court. I need this to work in my favour and theirs. They will try everything to make you look bad and they will drag your name through the mud, a hundred times over. They’ll bring up your past, not because it’s relevant but because they can. I’ll do my best to right their wrongs but you’ll have to play ball, one hundred per cent.”

Draco paused in the centre of the room, crossed his arms over his chest and for a moment his black silken prosecutor’s robes billowed around his ankles, then stopped moving altogether and exquisitely framed his tall lithe body.

Harry appeared to try his very best not to let the fact that Draco had seemingly forgotten to take his robes off distract him but, for once, or perhaps he was doing it on purpose, he wasn’t doing an overly good job at keeping his thoughts off his face. He folded his hands and letting them rest on top of the open book in his lap, he smiled at Draco, who rewarded him with an icy death glare.

“Stop looking at me like you’re thinking about bending me over the nearest surface and slamming your cock into me.”

Harry pressed his lips firmly together, failed to suppress a smirk and eventually settled for a shrug and honesty.

“Ah, but I am, thinking about bending you over the nearest surface and slamming my cock into you, repeatedly. It would most definitely relieve some of your ill-placed stress. You’re making a mountain out of a molehill, my darling prince. Besides, can’t help it, those robes and your current behaviour do unspeakable things to me.”

“Salazar’s slithering snake! Will you get your mind out of the gutter, for five bloody minutes, Potter?”

Draco scoffed and rolled his eyes but the flicker of excitement in his eyes told a different story and he knew as much; he just wasn’t ready to admit it aloud.

The idea of Harry working his magic and twisting his mind with his uncanny ability to dominate him and turn him into a boneless heap of limbs absolutely appealed to him.

Especially in his current mood.

He needed someone to turn the switch, to take his mind off the trial for just a couple of hours, and he needed it bad.

Right this moment, he was more than ready to give up control — his brain was racing at a million miles an hour and he wanted it to stop, he just didn’t know how to ask Harry for what he wanted.

Knowing that tomorrow he had to stand across from Harry in open court and tear into him with a bunch of frivolous questions in a pathetic attempt to save his case from ending up a mistrial and the defendant walking free did not appeal to him.

He did not want to be put into a position where he had to publicly tower over Harry and while, deep down, he knew that Harry would never do or say anything to compromise his work, he couldn’t help but doubt whether he was up to the task of looking Harry in the eye and questioning Director Potter about his work ethics. A large part of him knew that his fears were complete nonsense and that Harry _was_ right, he was making a mountain out of a molehill, but he couldn’t help himself. He was passionate about the job and while he’d known that one day, he’d end up standing in court across from Harry, he hadn’t been prepared for it to happen quite so soon.

Harry smiled and pushing his book out of the way, he snapped it closed and slowly rose to his feet.

Draco stood perfectly still but felt his hands tremor slightly and swallowed hard when he noted the look in Harry’s eyes. His emerald-green eyes had darkened several shades in the last few minutes, his back was ramrod straight and his shoulders perfectly aligned.

Harry’s charcoal grey button-up shirt complemented not only his eyes but also his healthy natural tan and his black chinos sat low on his hips and fell in a straight line down his toned legs. Draco parted his lips with the intention to say something, anything, but Harry rested his right hand just above the silver belt buckle of his exquisite black leather belt and took a step forward. Whatever Draco had been about to say, died before it had managed to make its way to the tip of his tongue and fall from his lips.

“Such sass, such a terrible potty mouth. You won’t ever learn, my little prince, will you?”

Harry’s voice was a low husky drawl and it did all manner of unspeakable things to Draco’s body. The firm undertone, the one that said don’t-mess-with-me, curled around his thoughts and slowly began to take hold of his mind, settling there, establishing a noticeable presence.

“You like it, _Sir_.”

Draco whispered his response into the silence of the room and swallowed when Harry smirked. He knew that smirk; knew exactly what it meant. Harry had known all along, probably even before he’d returned home to Grimmauld Place, that he’d try and hide behind a mask of sass, and perhaps even his robes, to distract from the fact that what he really needed was to be told to get on his knees and listen to Harry’s repeated reassurances that everything would be fine and that going up against him in open court, in front of an audience of Ministry workers, the press, and people who were interested in the trial, wasn’t going to change anything about their relationship. That was all he really needed, Draco knew that, but the pride he felt about how much he’d achieved at work, made it a little difficult to ask for this one little thing — _Take control, Harry, please_.

“I certainly do, my little prince, but doesn’t mean I’ll let you get away with it.”

 _Sweet Merlin_ , Draco thought, wondering, and not for the first time, what he’d done to deserve such a perceptive partner who, in the space of a little over a year, had paid such close attention to the way he acted and spoke and held himself that it often felt like Harry knew him better than he knew himself.

Harry was never wrong about those things, he had a sixth sense for it, a knack for getting under his skin when Draco needed it the most and he always did it in the best possible way.

“That ma—”

Draco made a half-hearted attempt at trying to tell Harry that his logic was flawed, a little play at showing a tiny bit of resistance, but Harry clicked his tongue and cut him off before he even managed to finish his second word.

“Ah, no, Draco. You’ve had the floor, now it’s my turn and that means you’re going to be quiet and by quiet, I mean quiet. From now on, not a sound, my little prince.”

Harry’s words hit Draco in all the right places and as they curled a little tighter around his mind, they began to gradually silence his thoughts until Draco’s entire focus was on Harry and how he unhurriedly took another step forward, coming just that little bit closer.

He watched Harry undo his belt and slowly drag the thin polished leather band from the loopholes of his black chinos. Once he had freed it, he let it slide through his open hand and then folded it in half, gripping both ends firmly. He took another step closer and Draco shuddered, unsure what to make of Harry’s intentions.

A part of him wanted to take a step back or dash from the room altogether but a larger part of him remained rooted to the spot and he let Harry approach him. Once Harry stood right in front of him, he smiled and brought his hand up to caress his cheek. Draco leant into the soft touch and felt his eyelids flutter. He wanted to close them but a click of Harry’s tongue stopped him from doing what he wanted. Instead, he focused on Harry, on the devilish smile on his face and the devious glint in his eyes.

Harry’s thumb rested on his bottom lip and pressed against it.

“Open up,” he said.

Draco parted his lips and the moment he did, Harry placed the belt in his mouth told him to bite down on it.

“Good boy, now hold on to that until I tell you otherwise. Drop it and we’ll have a very long discussion about how many times I’ll strike your arse with it and trust me no amount of begging will get you out of it.”

Draco nodded in silent understanding but shuddered at the idea of feeling _that_ belt repeatedly connect with the bare skin of his arse. The leather was polished and oiled. It wasn’t as smooth and pliable as that old worn leather strap; Harry had once used to strike the back of his thighs with. That one had hurt but in the best possible way. This one was bound to cause more pain than he knew he was ready for and the threat of it was enough to make him want to play by Harry’s rules.

Harry smiled and Draco knew he had read his mind and was acutely aware of what he’d been thinking about.

“That’s right, my little prince, this one will sting like a bitch and we both know you don’t want that sort of pain, so keep it where I put it.”

Draco briefly closed his eyes, swallowed, then opened his eyes again and nodded in silent understanding. He brought his hand up and signalled OK in acceptance of his fate, then lowered his head and waited for whatever Harry had in mind.

Harry took his hand, pulled him from the room, and led him up the stairs and into the playroom. Once inside, Draco heard the door lock, then he stood perfectly still and let Harry undress him. He took off the prosecutor’s robes first and briefly toying with them, he chuckled.

“After the trial, I expect you to visit me in my office, wearing nothing but those robes, to make up for the unbelievable sass and cheek you’re going to show me in court which, we both know, I’m going to enjoy immensely but you’re still going to make up for it. Are we clear?”

The words _Yes, Sir_ immediately flew to the tip of Draco’s tongue but instead of uttering them aloud and dropping the belt between his teeth, he simply nodded and when Harry gave him an expectant look, he gracefully sank to his knees, placed his hands behind his back and lowered his head.

A moment later, he felt the cool leather tress of a riding crop slide down the centre of his back and leaning forward, he silently offered Harry his arse and winced when the crop firmly connected first with his left arse cheek, then his right. The two blows stung terribly and he groaned around the makeshift gag in his mouth and gritted his teeth firmly, digging them into the unforgiving leather of Harry’s belt. He inhaled through his nose and tried his best to focus on regulating his breathing rather than losing himself in the way his arse throbbed and thrummed.

“The first one was for your sass downstairs, the second one was to give you something else to think about. You know as well as I do that your case is iron-clad, stop fretting.”

Draco couldn’t help but smile around the leather belt; Harry’s perceptive skills were one of a kind, there was no fooling him. He felt Harry’s hand slide down alongside his spine, felt it squeeze his arse, felt it slip between his butt cheeks and even felt Harry’s thumb press against his hole but not breach it.

“Mine, don’t forget that.”

Harry whispered the words into his ear and Draco mewled.

 _I couldn’t even if I wanted to, which I don’t_ , he thought to himself and whimpered softly. Harry’s fingers combed through his hair, gently massaged his shoulders and he felt himself relax at the sensual touch.

Several minutes later, Harry presented him with a black wax play candle and Draco inhaled sharply. They’d extensively talked about taking things one step further and Draco was ready for it, or at least he felt mentally ready to feel the heat of the candle’s flickering flame move along his body but that didn’t stop him from also feeling terrified.

It was a strange sort of fear that filled his chest, quickened his heartbeat, and made his pulse race. His breathing grew laboured and he felt Harry’s thumb circle the pulse point on the inside of his wrist. The fear that consumed him right now wasn’t the sort that brought on the uncontrollable feelings of panic, no, it merely filled him with a healthy dose of trepidation and respect for the unknown.

He knew that Harry had no intention of covering his body with wax but he also knew that if he agreed to his session, it would be far more intense than the last two and Draco took a moment to dither, to make up his mind.

Eventually, he nodded in silent approval and Harry moved to crouch down in front of him and rewarded him with a kiss to his forehead.

“Stay here, my pretty little prince,” he whispered.

Draco hummed in response and when Harry moved to stand, he lowered his head and stared at the floor. He felt Harry tower over him and lost himself in the intensity of the knowledge that Harry was in charge, that he was in control and that he made all the decisions.

All Draco had to do, wanted to do, was to follow his lead, to obey his rules, to be polite and to lose himself in his submission. He closed his eyes and did just that. His mind supplied him with an image from earlier and how he’d towered over Harry as he’d paced the living room while Harry had sat on the sofa and calmly listened to him rant. Now their roles had reversed and in Draco’s mind, the restored balance gave him the strength to feel safe and secure.

To him, Harry’s domination wasn’t something to be afraid of and while Harry certainly had the remarkable ability to be extraordinarily scary, Draco simply didn’t fear him; he respected him but he didn’t fear him. What he was afraid of was the unknown, the incredible sensations their scenes evoked, and what his mind was capable of when he let go completely and allowed Harry to take over, the places it took him to and the emotions it unleashed. It was always incredibly intense.

As his mind settled, Draco felt Harry step out of his immediate space and for a few seconds, he felt strangely bereft, like Harry, by moving across the room, had taken away something he needed to survive. He breathed deeply and focusing on the steady rhythm of his beating heart, he surrendered to the lub-dub and the regular inhale and exhale of his breathing.

He was vaguely aware that time was slowly ticking by but he had no idea how much of it had passed when Harry returned to his side and when he pushed his chin up, looked him in the eyes and smiled warmly.

Draco felt his cheeks heat and when Harry tugged on the belt and removed it from his mouth, he surrendered it at once. Harry kissed him deeply and hungrily and Draco let that happen too but felt a mild bout of panic when Harry pulled away and wrapped a silken blindfold around his eyes, robbing him of his ability to see.

“Relax, my sweet little prince.”

The whispered reassurance eased Draco’s fear but it took a long kiss and several minutes of Harry’s fingers running through his hair and caressing every inch of him before he truly relaxed and gave in to the sensations. The gag was gone but he didn’t feel that he’d earnt the right to speak yet and so he quietly hummed and surrendered a little more of himself. Harry gently helped him to his feet and let him somewhere, then made him lie down on the floor. Draco could tell that he was lying on a cotton sheet but it took him longer than usual to make sense of why the floor was so soft when it should be hard.

Of course, Harry had cast a cushioning spell on the cotton sheet and Draco relaxed into the sensations. He made a soft noise of contentment when Harry’s fingers moved slowly crept up his leg, squeezed his hip, tickled his side, circled over the inside of his wrist and traced an invisible line up his arm, along the side of his neck, the outer shell of his ear, his jawline, and finally his lips. The tingling sensations reminded Draco a little of his arousal, thrumming low in his groin but he didn’t focus on it.

Instead, he surrendered to Harry’s kiss, lost himself in the sound of his voice when he instructed him to raise his arms above his head and spread them, then do the same with his legs. Draco obeyed and as he lay, open and vulnerable, on the ground beneath Harry, he felt the teasing caress of a feather. It ghosted over his skin, tickled him here and there and ignited an odd feeling. He let out a low moan and willingly accepted Harry’s kiss, then inhaled sharply when he felt the harsher sensation of a candle’s wick tease his nipples, or at least he thought it was the wick of a candle.

Harry continued to reassure him and when sweet words of praise fell from his lips, Draco blushed furiously and heard himself make the strangest sound. He had no idea how to describe it but Harry liked it because he offered yet more praise. It consumed Draco and he let it flood his mind and fill every inch of his body, ignite every nerve ending and thrum through every fibre of his physical form.

He heard Harry tell him that he would light the candle, inhaled sharply but relaxed when Harry pressed the flat of his hand against his quivering stomach. The warm touch grounded and centred Draco and while the feeling of the candle’s hot flame licking at his skin but never touching him, filled him with agitation, the sensation of Harry’s hand resting on top of his naked flesh was stronger. He focused entirely on that but couldn’t quite ignore the candle’s heat as it travelled around him, trailing along the side of his body, his hands, his arms, his head, his legs, and even his feet.

For a while, Draco tried to work out what exactly Harry was doing but eventually, he gave up. He felt too high-strung and too far gone to focus on anything more than the calmness Harry’s hand instilled and the warmth of the candle. His brain was too foggy to allow for more and by the time Harry told him that he’d extinguished the candle, his mind had entered a different realm altogether and he was sure he had no idea what the difference between up and down or left and right was.

Harry kissed him deeply and passionately and Draco let out a low moan which Harry promptly swallowed and used to deepen the kiss.

“My sweet little prince, you did so well, you held perfectly still for me this whole time, you’re amazing, truly amazing.”

Draco couldn’t make sense of why Harry was praising him but he relished in it all the same and when Harry asked him whether he could lie still for a few more minutes, Draco answered without the slightest hint of hesitation.

“Yes, Sir.”

His reward was yet another deep kiss and he felt Harry straddle his hips and lace their hands together. When Harry’s tongue slithered into his mouth and wound itself around his own, he curled his toes and held on to Harry’s hands and by the time Harry removed the blindfold, he had to blink several times before he could focus.

“Ready to have a look?”

Draco frowned.

Harry smiled and easing away from him, he gently pulled him to his feet and pointed at the white cotton sheet on the floor. He had used the black candle to create a beautifully perfect outline of his body and it sparkled silvery, undoubtedly due to a subtle spell, Harry had cast wordlessly and without his wand. Not a single drop was out of place, it was all a perfectly straight line of thick hardened wax and Draco couldn’t help but smile. He yearned to touch the wax, to trace his own outline but was too mesmerised to ask for permission to do so.

When Harry wrapped his arms around his waist and pulled him flush against his body, he willingly leant into the embrace and shuddered when Harry pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

Draco nodded.

“This was better than a massage or a bath,” he whispered.

Harry chuckled warmly against his cheek and nibbled on his earlobe. Draco felt his hand trail down his chest and stomach and rest low on his abdomen with his fingers brushing the edge of his light pubic hair just above the base of his cock. He rather liked the possessiveness of the gesture and the fact that Harry simply placed his hand there without displaying an ounce of shyness.

“I’ll remember that for next time when you want it as part of your aftercare,” he whispered.

Draco turned his head a little, gave Harry a coy smile, then lowered his gaze and glanced at Harry’s hand and where it was resting. It was so dangerously close to his cock and his foggy mind couldn’t help but desire the attention of Harry’s hand wrapped around his prick. His cock had gone soft earlier but he knew it wouldn’t take much for him to get hard again, especially if Harry decided he wanted to continue playing with him. Part of him was tempted to ask for it, ask Harry to please bring him off, but the words didn’t make it past his lips and he revelled in the aftermath of Harry using his touch, sweet words of praise and candle wax to twist and turn his mind.

So far, tonight hadn’t been remotely sexual, and while it wasn’t the first time Draco had lost himself in his submission without Harry bringing sex into the equation, it felt different. He felt like he’d accomplished something. Like he’d overcome a hurdle and climbed a mountain and was now able to look down at his achievement and revel in it.

“Do you want more?”

Harry murmured the words into his ear and Draco gasped and felt Harry’s fingertips tickle the base of his cock. A rush of excitement zapped through him and he let out a low whimper.

“Yes, Sir.”

“What do you want?”

“I—”

Draco wasn’t quite sure how to answer that question.

“Yes?”

Harry pushed him to answer and Draco’s mind reeled a bit as he tried to focus on one thing. He wanted Harry’s touch, that much he was sure of but he also wanted to feel owned. He wanted Harry to be possessive and firm and thinking back to the beginning of their scene when Harry had so very naturally displayed his dominance, he felt his knees buckle just a little.

“I want— I want to be yours, Sir, please.”

Harry hummed into his ear and his hand slipped even lower. His fingers still caressed the base of Draco’s cock and Draco could feel his blood run south as his cock gradually began to fill out and grow hard. The arousal deep in his groin began to build and spread and he bit his bottom lip to hold back a moan.

“You are mine, my little prince. You absolutely are mine, my love. Every inch of you belongs to me, _you_ belong to me.”

“Remind me, Sir, please.”

“With pleasure, sweet one,” Harry said and sank his teeth into the skin above his collarbone, biting hard.

Draco yelped and winced and shuddered and Harry’s fingers closed around his cock and stroked his growing erection and Draco’s brain threatened to short-circuit. He willingly fell to his knees at Harry’s feet and when Harry offered him his cock, he sucked and swallowed as much of it as he could.

Harry’s praise turned his cheeks a flaming shade of red, or so it felt, and he doubled his efforts to please Harry. After a while, Harry told him to stop and when he didn’t, Harry pulled his cock out of his mouth and he earnt himself a firm smack to his arse. Draco nearly drowned in the sting and almost begged for more but couldn’t because Harry pushed two of his fingers into his mouth and told him to wet them thoroughly. He complied and Harry teased his wet fingers between his buttocks, dragging them over and around his hole.

The teasing was almost too much to bear and Draco moaned and shamelessly begged for more and the sex that followed drove him delirious. Harry held him down, yanked his arms behind his back and held them there, at an angle that was distinctly painful yet Draco didn’t want the feeling to end, he wanted it to continue, he wanted to feel the burn in his muscles.

When Harry claimed his arse, the burn intensified but for an entirely different reason, and when Harry fucked him and whispered all manner of dirty things to him, Draco fell down the proverbial rabbit hole and lost himself in a world where he no longer knew the difference between fantasy and reality.

Pain and pleasure fused tightly together, melted into one and became ecstasy and as Harry used him for his own satisfaction, as he repeatedly claimed what was his, Draco pleaded with him for the permission to come, or at least he thought he was begging for his orgasm — at this point he couldn’t be sure whether his words still made sense or whether they were complete gibberish. He blinked and as tears filled his eyes, he caught sight of the blurry black wax outline of his body on the white cotton sheet.

He spotted the candle stump and focusing on it, he briefly recalled the sensations of lying, blindfolded, on the floor, while Harry, with an extremely steady hand, worked to create something beautiful for him. He’d been so careful not to let even a single drop of wax connect with his body and even though the heat from the candle had scared Draco, his trust in Harry and the safety net it created had stopped him from giving in to the urge to scramble to his feet and run away in a blind panic.

Harry’s cock filled him, buried itself deep inside him and his prostate throbbed, his achingly hard prick pulsed and quivered and his body shook and shuddered as Harry pressed his lips to his ear.

“Who do you belong to, my little prince?”

Draco answered without hesitation or a second thought.

“You, Sir.”

“That’s right, my little prince, you’re mine, mine, mine. Always mine.”

“Yes, Sir.”

As Draco willingly affirmed Harry’s claim on him, he decided that he was ready for the final step, well and truly ready but his brain and his mouth refused to cooperate for long enough to form the words and so Draco resolved to tell Harry later and when he didn’t feel quite so floaty. The unshed tears, that had gathered in his eyes, behind his half-shut eyelids, began to spill and a wretched sob tore itself from his chest.

A strange sort of release accompanied it and somehow it felt stronger than any orgasm he’d ever had. It felt like he’d shed a layer of his skin and was turning into a different person altogether, someone who was ready for anything. Overwhelmed, he attempted to draw his focus to the way Harry kept a firm hold on his arms and how he squeezed his hip and held him steady while he fucked into him.

He truly loved the feeling of Harry’s cock inside him, filling him, possessing him and even though he, at this stage, desperately wanted to come, he couldn’t gather up the energy needed to beg for it. It wasn’t for lack of wanting to but rather because he couldn’t find the strength to form the words. Or maybe he could?

Draco heard his own voice but it didn’t make much sense to him. All that made sense to him now were Harry’s instructions and the sensations his climax brought on. He felt Harry’s cock pulsate inside him, felt how his own muscles, entirely out of their own accord, clenched around Harry’s cock and milked him dry, extending his orgasm for several seconds.

Harry’s hand wrapped itself around his hard prick and with a few expert twists and tugs, he offered Draco his own release, pushing him right over the edge and into the throes of an incredibly intense orgasm, stimulated not by Harry’s handjob but Draco’s own mental state and his emotions.

He wanted to thank Harry but the only word he managed to whisper was Harry’s name and he chanted it continuously and until Harry enveloped him in a strong embrace. He brought him over to the bed where Draco stretched his sore limbs and whimpered at the lingering burn that spread through every inch of his body. Draco relaxed into Harry’s embrace, fell into a light slumber, and listened to the sound of Harry’s voice. The words made little sense to him but just knowing that Harry was there, at his side, holding him, keeping his safe and soothing him with reassuring sweet words and gentle kisses was enough for Draco. Right this moment, he didn’t need anything else. This was perfect, this was all he wanted.

* * *

 


	75. In Your Arms (I'm Safe) Always

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, folks, this is it, the very last chapter of this tale. I’ve made you wait for it until Harry’s birthday but since I am a woman of my word and that day is today so I have no more excuses to hold out on you. I don’t want to either.
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking with me throughout the last three months while I slowly edited and uploaded each chapter and (secretly) added some additional scenes to a few chapters here and there. Thank you for reading all my Author’s Notes and appreciating the links to additional information. Misrepresentation of BDSM or seeing it twisted into something dark and unhealthy truly pains me because it absolutely isn’t that. It’s not for everyone, that’s true, but it still isn’t something to be afraid of or to condemn. All practices are always consensual and mutual respect is so important. It’s not always about sex, it’s about exercising dominance over somebody who enjoys giving another their submission, all fully consensual, of course. It’s about being the person you want to be and being allowed to enjoy the things you want to enjoy, in a safe, loving environment. There’s nothing perverted about it and if rules are adhered to there’s nothing dangerous about it either, just a mind-twisting thrill and a rush of emotions that is almost too beautiful to describe with words.
> 
> It's been an incredible journey and your comments made me laugh, made me cry, and gave me all the feels and more — I even made some amazing friends, who have become truly special to me. When I think about them, several instantly pop into my head and I can’t help but smile broadly.
> 
> You have been an incredible audience and I feel strangely bereft now that I'm supposed to let go of more than eight months of incredibly hard work. 
> 
> Yes, it took that long to write and edit the story. The writing was the easiest part and mostly flowed without question. The editing was a pain in the arse and a total nightmare but somehow I still enjoyed it. Getting you all the additional information and writing long rambling Author’s Notes has become somewhat of an addiction that I’m sure I will continue.
> 
> I would like to issue a small challenge/competition and ask you to put yourself into LPK!Draco's head and as part of your comment respond to the last thing Harry says to Draco. The best line might just make it into a stand-alone sequel I will eventually write and the winner will get all the credit.
> 
> Once again, thank you so much for your beautiful comments. You sure do know how to make a girl feel special.
> 
> Lastly, **K** , yes, you.  
> What can I say? You made this whole thing possible. You pushed me when I needed pushing and coaxed and praised me when I needed coaxing and praising. You read each chapter well before everyone else, gave me valuable input, listened to my late-night rants about the story and early morning freak-outs. You wrote so many BDSM scenes with me to help me practice and make research that little bit sweeter. You were firm when that was what I needed and lax when that was the best course of action. You helped me to get into Draco's head more times than I can count. You took that fear right out of my hands and replaced it with confidence and the knowledge that if I put my mind to it, I can do anything. You, _Sir_ , were perfect, you are perfect, and I bow to you. You are an incredible friend, a beautiful human being, a kind soul, and the best brother (and occasionally, and weirdly enough, Dom) I could ask for. Thank you for appearing in my life, I needed you and I will always need you, you precious person. I'll see you very soon. Peace out, honey.
> 
> Love,  
> Selly x
> 
> P.S. CB, this one is for you and only for you: X

* * *

June past in a blur with both Harry and Draco busy with work commitments coming at them left, right and centre — although Harry absolutely got the brunt of it all.

After a raid went terribly wrong, Harry’s found his department dangerously short-staffed as two of his Trainee Aurors, three fully-qualified Aurors, and one department-employed Curse Breaker by the name of Bill Weasley recuperated in St. Mungo’s Hospital. A trainee, fresh out of the academy, had accidentally set off an intricate web of traps at an abandoned Death Eater safe house yet had somehow managed to remain uninjured while entire team had taken the hit.

Suffice to say, Harry had put him on desk duty with immediate effect and for the rest of the year, which meant that the trainee was ‘ _grounded_ ’ so to speak. He’d also received a very firm reprimand and Harry, who ran a very tight ship when it came to managing all trainees, had signed him up for retaking his qualifying final exam in sixth months’ time. Rookie mistakes happened all the time but since precautionary steps upon entering an unknown wizarding abode, abandoned or not, were extensively covered during training, Harry had seen red.

On top of overseeing the department, assisting with the leading the entire Department of Magical Law Enforcement, which, of course, included all its sub-divisions, of which there were many, and a nearly uncontrollable pile of case files, Harry also suddenly found himself in charge of the British Division of a new task force, working closely with the American Auror Office. He wasn’t particularly excited about the unexpected addition to his already massive workload but since there wasn’t anything, he could do about it, he simply swallowed the bitter pill and bravely feigned a smile whenever he stepped foot into the Ministry.

Draco was the only one who got to see him without his mask and while his current duties, almost daily, left him feeling like he wanted to grab the nearest vase and smash it against a wall, Harry made sure not to subject Draco to his sour moods. It wasn’t fair and that wasn’t the kind of person he was.

He, of course, took the time to vent his frustrations, and Draco always listened attentively and offered valuable advice and his perspective on things, but made sure to make it perfectly clear to Draco that it wasn’t personal, never that. Draco waved his worries off, outright labelled them nonsense, and told him that he hadn’t been born yesterday and could tell the difference between a personal attack and work-related stress.

Somehow, Draco’s sass fixed Harry’s world in an instant and it didn’t take Draco more than two days to work that fact out. From then on, Draco made sure to offer him a healthy dose of sass on a daily basis and while Harry’s hand itched and he desperately wanted to spank Draco for his cheek, he also positively basked in it and revelled in the powers his little prince’s sass had on him.

What with working long hours, either in his office or at home, Harry barely found the time, nor was he in the right headspace for it, to think about a proper scene and so their playroom, up on the fourth floor of Grimmauld Place went unused for a shockingly long stretch of time. Instead of thinking about restraints and new ways to edge Draco until he begged and pleaded and came undone, Harry returned home with a large pile of files, shrunken down to the size of stamps, each Friday evening. He tried to limit the amount of overtime he did during the weekend but was unable to take the entire weekend off to spend it with Draco or their friends.

Draco was incredibly understanding and while he had several cases to prepare for, his workload was nowhere near as crazy as Harry’s — it just required a lot of research and paperwork. Still, Harry couldn’t help but feel bad and so he, at some point, resolved to find a quarter of an hour in his hectic schedule to leave the Ministry and run a personal errand. He purchased a bouquet of flowers and some of Draco’s favourite cherry and rum-flavoured pralines and personally delivered them to Draco’s office, along with a large cup of cappuccino. Seeing the appreciative smile on Draco’s face was well worth the extra overtime he had to do that evening and the early start the following morning.

In response to his romantic gesture, Draco put his foot down each morning and refused to let him step into the Floo without first having breakfast. Lunch, Draco either personally delivered to his office or, when stuck in a meeting, had it brought over by a messenger boy. The food never came from the Ministry canteen — which Harry hadn’t set foot into in years — and varied greatly from day to day but always included a cup of strong black coffee, fresh fruits or a healthy salad, a daily portion of nuts and main dish that was rich in nutrients, supplied him with the energy he needed to get through the rest of the day, and kept him in top shape.

After each meal, Harry took a moment to compose a handwritten inter-departmental memo to thank Draco for his kindness and his time and in the evenings, he tried his best to let Draco know how much he loved and appreciated everything he did for him. Draco claimed to know all that but Harry knew him well enough to be able to read between the lines — it wasn’t what Draco said or didn’t say, it was the way he looked when Harry thanked him and kissed his forehead.

It was the way Draco’s cheeks coloured when Harry praised his carefully selected lunch or brought him a home-cooked dinner and served it in his office when the clock in their kitchen struck eight o’clock in the evening and Harry was still stuck at the Ministry, catching up on memos and reports.

It was the way Draco addressed all his notes to _Sir_ instead of Harry — a small, unasked, submissive gesture to brighten Harry’s day and it worked every time. Harry saved every single note and kept a whole pile of them in a locked box in the top drawer of his desk at home.

It was the way Draco wordlessly took over keeping the house in order, always making sure that Harry’s Auror uniform was in impeccable condition, and gave Harry a backrub after he’d spent an entire afternoon stuck in a meeting.

It was in the way Draco took initiative and picked Teddy up at Andromeda’s house to bring him to Diagon Alley for some child-friendly fun one weekend and took him to Auntie Gin’s Quidditch practice the next weekend.

It was in the way Draco braved a trip to Ottery St. Catchpole to help Molly with some legal documents and when Harry offered to take an afternoon off work to come with him, he pretended to be positively offended at his suggestion that he was too much of a chicken to spent a few hours in Molly Weasley’s company — _if you must know, Potter, I know exactly how to wrap that woman around my little finger. You couldn’t resist the Draco Malfoy charm, neither can she, trust me. I may be gay but I still know how to make a woman feel special_. Those had been Draco’s exact words and thinking about them still made Harry smile. Or laugh. It depended on the situation and the time of day.

 

June turned into July and with it came an unbearable heatwave that hung above London like a thick layer of impenetrable fog — the oppressive heat and its unusual humidity turned the simplest of tasks into a chore. It lingered on and on and did absolutely nothing to improve Harry mood. While he was apt at wandless magic, he continuously forgot to renew the cooling charms at home and suffered greatly. Canada had taught him a thing or two about how to handle the cold but he most definitely didn’t know how to handle _this_ heat.

Since the Ministry was underground it was nice and cool there and there was no need for any sort of cooling charms; only air-refreshing charms and proper ventilation. Harry’s own forgetfulness ended with a great many unnecessary clothing changes, although at some point he gave up on wearing trousers and a shirt altogether and stripped down to his underwear while reviewing case files.

As a result of that, he found himself on the receiving end of Draco’s hungry stares as he silently devoured him with his eyes. Even though the knowledge that Draco was openly lusting after him, and not even making the slightest attempt to hide his desires, improved his mood considerably, it did absolutely nothing in terms of his concentration levels.

He tried his best to remain focused but eventually gave up on the idea of work and chose to ravish Draco instead. Draco, naturally, had no complaints whatsoever and afterwards, while floating in post-coital bliss, neither had Harry.

The hideous and sultry heat continued to linger on as did Harry’s unchanging and all-pervading workload.

When Draco suggested that they relocate to Malfoy Manor until London had cooled down a bit, Harry didn’t even think twice. He leapt at the idea and they left for Wiltshire that night. Where staying at the Manor had once filled him with dread, the place had now grown on him and he found that he rather enjoyed himself. He frequently lost his way inside the building and found himself apparating from one room to another rather than walking there but had fallen head over heels in love with the gardens and the grounds in general. All that green calmed him and a lot of the large old trees offered not only shade but also a secluded corner to hide away from the world — and to pin Draco to one of the many tree trunks and snog him senseless.

Narcissa was less than surprised to see them and welcomed them with cool lemonade and ice-cream out on the terrace, where a cool evening breeze brought some much-needed relief and Harry relaxed instantly. That night, after spending well over two hours making love to Draco, Harry slept soundly and woke up the next morning feeling completely refreshed.

To him, it made no difference whether he floo’ed to the Ministry from Grimmauld Place or Malfoy Manor. The trip took the same amount of time but staying out in Wiltshire came with a lot more benefits.

Draco took a sabbatical from work, deciding to focus on working on a draft proposal for a bill to get several outdated laws updated, and instead of heading to the office every day, he only stopped by to bring Harry lunch, then returned to his books at the Manor. He also thoroughly enjoyed spending quality time with his mother and practically blossomed in her care — after all, a mother’s love was special.

Narcissa took it upon herself to drop hints about them extending their stay and by extending it, she very clearly meant making it permanent. She was rather sly about it but both Harry and Draco caught each one of her subtle allusions and made it their mission to make frequent plans to return to Grimmauld Place in London while in her company — just to drive her crazy, of course. Draco’s favourite excuse was that they were intruding on her privacy and all Narcissa could do in response was to purse her lips or give herself away and since she was a Slytherin through and through, that was not her style.

Towards the end of July, Harry’s crazy work schedule finally began to ease up. It started with the dissolution of the international task force and continued with the return of his Aurors and his trusted Curse Breaker. To celebrate, Harry treated the entire Auror Department to dinner and pre-weekend drinks in one of the Leaky Cauldron’s private function rooms and following Draco’s recommendation, he hired another secretary.

She was a competent witch in her mid-forties and within days of starting to work for him, she created a filing system for Harry’s case reports that drastically lessened the amount of time he spent having to search through files and folders. He thanked her with a decent salary rise and made it abundantly clear that she was to remain in his employment for all eternity and that he would burn her resignation to ashes if she ever dared to present him with one. She laughed heartily and the next morning, she surprised him with home-baked treacle tart, which Harry brought back with him to the Manor.

Draco and Narcissa ate a small slice each but left most of the cake for him and when Draco dragged him and the plate of tart down to the kitchens to make him some custard, Harry briefly contemplated whether it might be possible to get an audience with the Queen of England to have Draco knighted.

 

On the morning of his twenty-eighth birthday, Harry woke up to a scrumptious breakfast in bed, a perfectly-brewed strong cup of black coffee and several fervently passionate kisses from Draco, who was completely naked and looked good enough to eat — mind, he always looked good enough to eat but this morning even more so.

Harry immediately and spontaneously decided to take the day off work and allowing himself a luxurious stretch in the centre of Draco’s massive four-poster bed, he blinked several times and took his glasses from Draco, when he picked them off the nightstand and offered them to him. He pushed them onto his nose, adjusted them, and smiled up at Draco, who was kneeling on the bed looking ravishingly handsome in nothing but his birthday suit.

The strong scent of coffee distracted Harry for long enough to abandon his plans of foregoing breakfast in favour of jumping Draco and having his wicked way with him and they took a ridiculous amount of time to finish eating. That was mainly down to the fact that Harry simply couldn’t resist kissing Draco any chance he got so by the time they finally moved the breakfast tray off the bed, it was nearly ten o’clock in the morning.

Completely unfazed by the fact that they were being extremely generous with their time and entirely ignoring any and all owled letters that were, without a doubt, waiting for him downstairs, Harry effortlessly flipped Draco onto his back, rolled on top of him and pinned him to the mattress. He laced their fingers together, pulled Draco’s arms over his head and pressing them into the mattress, he rolled his hips. His half-hard cock rubbed up against Draco’s half-hard cock and they both let out a low moan of pleasure.

“I missed this, my little prince, I missed you,” Harry whispered.

He rolled his hips again and Draco let out a tiny whimper, then smiled up at him.

“I’ve been right here this entire time, Sir,” he said.

His voice was low and he was slightly out of breath, something Harry did not fault him for. He rolled his hips again and both their cocks filled out and hardened.

“I know you have, thank you for everything you did for me these past two months, my sweet little prince, you’re truly precious.”

“For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish always and until death us do part.”

Harry chuckled softly and pressed his lips to Draco’s, kissing him softly, gently, unhurriedly.

“Are you quoting wedding vows to me, my love?”

Harry murmured the question against Draco’s lips, then pulled away slightly and held his gaze.

“And what if I am?”

Draco answered his question with a cheeky dose of sass.

“ _Ngh_ , how long has it been since I last turned that pretty behind of yours nice and red?”

“Probably too long.”

“Well, you’re absolutely right about that, my little prince.”

“And you absolutely should do something about that, Sir, if I may make that humble suggestion.”

Harry grinned.

“I most definitely should and I will, you can be sure about that.”

Draco inhaled sharply and as he parted his lips, Harry captured his mouth in a truly titillating kiss, plunging his tongue deep into the hot wet cavern that was his for the taking. He slithered his tongue around Draco’s and played an incessant game of _Catch Me If You Can_ with it, teasing Draco for several long minutes while rolling his hips and rubbing their cocks together.

A loud moan filled Draco’s childhood bedroom and pulling away from the kiss, Harry held Draco’s gaze and watched the irregular and rapid rise and fall of his chest as he desperately tried to fill his lungs with enough air to somewhat calm himself.

“Are you my birthday present, you precious boy?”

Harry whispered his question into the small space between both their faces and Draco whimpered and licked his lips.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Does that mean I get to play with you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And have hours upon hours of fun exploring every inch of you?”

“Yes, Sir. Whatever you desire, Sir.”

“Hm, whatever I desire, huh? Delectable. I desire a lot.”

Harry rolled his lips and as he thrust a little harder, Draco groaned.

“I desire to spank you, my precious little prince. I desire to turn your pretty behind a deep shade of red. I desire to hear you moan each time the palm of my hand lands on your arse. I desire to hear you beg for more even when your arse is flaming red and throbs and thrums madly. I desire to hear you whimper as you succumb to the pain and let it bring you unadulterated pleasure. Tell me, my perfect sweet boy, is that something you desire too?”

Draco whimpered and stared up at him with his pupils dilated and his silvery-grey eyes almost black with desire. Harry had no doubt that his imagination was running wild and when a tremor surged through Draco, he had his confirmation.

“Yes, Sir, yes, please. Oh, _ngh_ , please, Harry, just, please. Spank me, please.”

“Begging already, huh?”

Harry teased Draco, then kissed him ardently and while he made Draco use up every bit of air his lungs had in them, he rolled his hips, thrusting them forward repeatedly. His and Draco’s cocks slid together effortlessly and Harry felt Draco’s fingers tightened around him and didn’t need to look to know that he was curling his toes.

He slowly pulled away, looked at Draco for several long moments, then kissed the tip of his nose and chuckled when Draco giggled softly.

“Will you be good and turn around for me, my love?” he whispered.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Hm, so very obedient. You’re precious, truly precious. A true delight to dominate, my sweet subby boy.”

Draco’s already flushed cheeks coloured even further and when Harry moved to sit back on his haunches, he scrambled up, turned over and got onto his knees. He turned his head sideways and rested his cheek against his folded forearms. The position forced him to raise his arse higher up and reaching out, Harry cupped both of his butt cheeks and squeezed them firmly. Draco’s shaky moan shot straight down Harry’s spine and pooled low in his groin, making his cock twitch. He squeezed Draco’s arse again, then let his hands slide up Draco’s back, gently pressing his thumbs against either side of his spine.

The sound Draco made was music to Harry’s ears. It was something strange between a moan and a whimper with a bit of a wanton, breathless mewl thrown into the mix and shuffling, Harry squeezed Draco’s shoulders and massaged them gently, then leant forward to place a trail of kisses down Draco’s spine.

Once he arrived at the top of Draco’s crack, he stopped and slowly rubbing his hands up and down Draco’s back, he admired the sight in front of him for a while. Draco’s milky-white skin looked glorious and Harry couldn’t wait to mark it, couldn’t wait to redden it, and cover it with bite marks. He wanted to give Draco a physical reminder of this day and since they hadn’t played properly in so long, Harry knew all too well that Draco would cherish each mark for days to come.

“Are you ready, sweet one?” Harry asked, pressing a kiss to Draco’s lower back.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Hm, good.”

Harry smiled devilishly and rubbing the palms of his hands over Draco’s arse, he squeezed and kneaded them, pleased when they coloured and his fingertips left light pink marks behind. Draco moaned in response and when he was sure that he was expecting the first smack, Harry surprised him by pulling his arse cheeks apart and pressing his face into the crack. He kissed Draco’s hole, then stuck his tongue out to lick around and cover it and Draco groaned.

“Fuck, oh fuck, so good, fuck, Harry, please, _ngh_ , yes, don’t stop, please, please, please.”

Harry smirked and pulled away.

“Such a potty mouth, one lick is all it takes for you to pepper one simple sentence with three fucks. Have you forgotten everything I taught you, my beautiful naughty little prince?”

Draco whimpered.

“ _Ngh_ , Sir, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah, you always say that,” Harry said.

Without warning, he raised his hand and brought it down hard on Draco’s right arse cheek. A loud _smack_ reverberated around the room and Draco groaned.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” he breathed.

“I know, you’re still getting punished, my love.”

Harry brought his hand down again, on the same spot and just as hard.

Draco mewled and moaned and wriggled his arse. Harry’s hard smack had left a perfect imprint of his hand behind and it blossomed into a red mark which Harry teased with his fingertips, then massaged and finally squeezed hard before delivering the third _smack_.

“Three on your right cheek for each fuck you used and now three on the other to help you remember that you can beg but not swear when we play.”

Draco groaned but made no move to object or stop him. Harry firmly brought his hand down on Draco’s left arse cheek and with three smacks he turned it just as flaming red as the right one. He squeezed both cheeks, kneaded them, then pulled them apart and swiped his tongue across Draco’s hole, licking over and around it and gently pushing at the fluttering entrance, teasing the tight ring of muscle, and gently enticing it to loosen up.

He teased and tormented Draco for several minutes, delighted in the way he begged and pleaded with him not to stop and how vocal he was about his enjoyment of what Harry was doing to him.

After turning Draco into a breathless, moaning, panting wreck, Harry stopped, gave him a minute to recover, then kissed first his left arse cheek and then his right one. He squeezed them again, then let a series of repeated smacks rain down on Draco’s arse, turning his pretty behind into a glowing red masterpiece, just like he’d promised him.

Draco groaned and whimpered and his hips jerked a little with each smack and he lost himself in the sting of each blow, sinking deeper and deeper into his submission and begging for more.

Harry alternated between hard painful blows and light teasing smacks, gentle caresses, kisses, little bites, and possessives massages and positively delighted in how hot Draco’s arse was and how much it throbbed when he pressed his cheek or his lips against it.

He conjured a mirror and letting it float by the bed’s canopy, he also conjured a small square hand mirror and handed that to Draco, allowing him to watch as he continued to lovingly spank Draco, who stared into the mirror, transfixed by the sight of his own submission and what Harry was doing to him. While Draco often looked into a mirror after a scene and silently admired the temporary marks, Harry usually left all over his body, he’d never watched himself during a scene and Harry knew he’d cherish the treat, knew it would intensify the unfolding scene and Draco’s feelings about it.

He was right.

Tears formed in his eyes and he let out a sob and soon enough he was crying softly, quietly as his salty tears stained his flushed face. Harry peppered his now deep-red arse with a million tiny kisses, then kissed up his spine and along his collarbone.

“You’re precious and perfect and I love you so much, my sweet little prince. You’re everything I ever wanted and more, my love.”

A fresh wave of tears spilt over the rim of Draco’s eyes and Harry twisted to kiss him. He licked the tears away, swallowed them, then kissed Draco again, claiming his mouth and pouring all his emotions and all his feelings into it. He felt Draco cry some more, felt him surrender a little more and pulled away to run his fingers gently through Draco’s hair, combing it softly.

“Precious little prince.”

Draco keened and blinking rapidly, he tried to focus his gaze on him.

“Harry, please I’m ready.”

“Ready for what?”

Draco’s cheeks flushed, turned a deep shade of red and he momentarily closed his eyes, inhaled deeply and then slowly opened them again.

“I may have been naughty, Sir, please don’t be mad, Harry,” he murmured and pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, gnawing at it with his upper front teeth for a moment before continuing to speak. “Open the top drawer of the nightstand, Sir.”

Harry smiled and kissed Draco’s forehead, he did just that. He only barely managed to contain the gasp that tried to escape him as he found himself staring at the box of wax play candles from their playroom. Next to the box were the black silken blindfold and the black silken sash restraints, all neatly folded. Harry turned his head and looked at Draco, whose breathing had slowed a little and who now steadily held his gaze.

“Are you sure?”

Draco nodded.

“Yes, Harry. I want this. Today, here, with you. Please.”

Harry hesitated for a moment, then reached inside the drawer and pulled out the box. He expertly flipped it open and let his finger slide over the smooth soy candles, then reached back into the drawer to take out the tub of all-natural coconut oil.

“I can’t help but ask again. Are you absolutely sure?”

“Yes, Harry, please. I want to experience this with you. I really do.”

“We’ll soil the bed.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It’ll sting.”

“I want it to.”

Harry smiled, sufficiently convinced that he wouldn’t be able to talk Draco out of the idea and not inclined to try and do so but absolutely prepared to stop the scene immediately if he felt that it got too much. Unscrewing the lid, he opened the tub of coconut oil, dipped his fingers inside, the smooth thick crystalline liquid and drizzled it onto Draco’s back. It ran down to his shoulders and his sides and Harry rubbed some of the oil into Draco’s reddened arse.

In response, Draco let out a low moan and Harry drizzled yet more oil onto his back, arse, the back of his thighs and legs. He used a rather liberal coating and once he was pleased with the outcome, he temporarily screwed the lid back onto the tub and moved it out of the way.

After a moment of hesitation, he picked two candles, a purple and a black one, from the box and showed them to Draco, who held his gaze and nodded.

“Yes, Sir.”

He whispered the two words on a breath of air and Harry leant down to kiss him, then nibbled at his earlobe and flicked the tip of his tongue around the outer shell of Draco’s ear.

“I’d planned to do this in our playroom, with the lights down low and soft music playing in the background, my little prince.”

Draco let out a soft whimper.

“This here is perfect, Sir, just you and me.”

Harry smiled and pressed a kiss to Draco’s cheeks.

“You’ve got a point, my love. This is perfect, anywhere with you is perfect.”

Harry sat back on his haunches and instead of reaching for his wand, he wandlessly locked and warded the doors, including a _Do Not Enter_ charm that would stop anyone, Narcissa and house elves included, to stop from entering or apparating directly into the room. Once he’d done that, he gently moved his hand over the candles and set fire to their wicks, watching the flames dance happily as they consumed the oxygen around them.

As he waited for some of the wax to melt, he held Draco’s gaze and smiled.

“I love you, my little prince.”

“I love you too, Sir.”

Harry placed his hand on Draco’s lower back, just above his arse and rubbing the spot gently, he moved the candles into position and waited another few moments for more wax to melt.

“Ready, my love?” he asked one last time.

Draco responded with a breathless whisper.

“Ready, Sir.”

Fervently hoping that Draco would be OK, Harry kept one eye on him and the other on the candles as he slowly adjusted their height and then tipped them over to let some of the wax drip onto Draco’s lower back. He’d taken his hand away and watched as the wax slowly landed on Draco’s back and rolled up his spine towards his shoulders and down his sides, steadily cooling and hardening.

Draco hissed and let out a low yelp. He flinched a little, trembled and inhaled sharply through his nose and Harry watched his face closely. He’d closed his eyes and his lips were slightly parted but he looked completely at ease and a mile away from panicky.

His expression bordered on serene and when Harry tipped the candles over again and dripped yet more wax onto his lower back, it became just that. Draco looked completely relaxed and although he’d let out another hiss when the second load of wax hit his back, he didn’t yelp or flinch.

Instead, he let out a low moan and feeling encouraged, Harry poured a little more wax over him, this time aiming for a little higher up his back. He waited and watched the wax flow, then moved the candles and slowly began covering Draco’s arse with even trails of black and purple melted wax.

Draco hissed loudly. Given the fact that his arse was already red and throbbing from his earlier spanking, the hot wax connecting with it felt intense; Harry knew that much. He smiled and when Draco’s eyes opened and their gazes met, he blew him a kiss and ran the fingers of his free hand through Draco’s hair, gently massaging his scalp.

“You’re doing so well, my little prince. I’m so proud of you. I can see you’re really enjoying this.”

Draco’s lips curled in a content smile but he remained silent. He blinked, then his eyelids fluttered and briefly closing his eyes, he breathed deeply, slowly. Harry tipped the candles over and let a continuous stream of wax slowly drip over Draco’s arse cheeks, covering different areas and letting it run all over his red arse, down his thighs and back up his back. Draco’s eyes opened again and he watched in the mirror, watched as Harry created art on his skin.

“You’re precious,” Harry spoke softly and ran his fingers through Draco’s hair again.

He continued to drip more wax onto him, using skilled movements to direct the flow of the wax and varying degrees of height to control how far the wax travelled once it hit Draco’s skin and how much it stung.

Draco moaned softly, hissed but otherwise held perfectly still. He watched Harry work for the longest time, then closed his eyes and Harry could tell that Draco had started drifting.

He reached for Draco’s hand, found the pulse point on his wrist, and circled his thumb over it as he continued to work. Draco mewled softly. His breathing was slightly ragged and a decent layer of drying shiny black and deep purple wax-covered most of his back, arse, and the back of his thighs and legs. The colours were in stark contrast to his pale skin and Harry returned to his arse and dripped yet more wax onto it. Some of it trailed towards the crack of Draco’s arse, some of it towards his balls, and some of it down the outer sides of his thighs.

Harry continued until he’d used up three thirds off the candles, then extinguished them and placing them in the box he ran his fingers through Draco’s hair, kissed him tenderly and told him to open his eyes.

Draco obeyed with a little hesitation and smiled at him.

“Hey,” Harry whispered.

“Hey,” Draco whispered back.

“How are you feeling?”

“Perfect.”

Harry chuckled and kissed his forehead.

“You are perfect, my love. You look perfect.”

Draco mewled and his eyelashes fluttered.

“Precious little prince, be mine forever.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“I mean it.”

“I know. I want to be yours forever.”

Harry smiled.

“Good. Listen, sweet one, I may have been a little devious too and I have an idea of how to make this even better for you, my pretty little prince. What do you say, are you up for a little surprise?”

Draco nodded or at least tried to. In his position it looked a little awkward and kissing him, Harry told him not to move and to wait. He slipped off the bed, headed towards Draco’s walk-in wardrobe and rummaging around in his holdall, he pulled something out of a private compartment, he reserved for storing naughty toys. Slipping his hand through the wrist strap, he grabbed the handle, not firmly but securely enough to ensure the impact toy wouldn’t slip out of his grasp and returning to Draco’s bedside, he placed it right in his peripheral vision.

Draco inhaled sharply and his eyes widened but there was no fear in them. Instead, his pupils dilated an impossible bit more and smiling, Harry reached into the open nightstand drawer and took out one of the black silken sash restraints.

“Raise your head a little, brace yourself on your hands, not your forearms,” he instructed softly and Draco did just that.

Once he’d gotten himself into position, Harry expertly tied Draco’s wrists together, creating a knot with a bow that looked both stunningly beautiful and intricate but while it looked pretty, it would take more than a tug to undo the knots. He tested the space between the restraints and Draco’s wrists and when he was satisfied that the bondage bands were loose enough to avoid blood restriction, he kissed Draco and told him to close his eyes.

Draco did, and moving into a standing position, Harry found his balance on the large mattress and powering over Draco, he got into position, double-checked his grasp on the handle of the toy, then expertly wielded it. The soft wild leather tresses brushed over Draco’s back and as they connected with his wax-covered skin, the hardened wax peeled off and flew through the air, landing on the bed.

A loud gasp fell from Draco’s lips and his eyes opened wide. He stared into the mirror beside him, clearly able to see Harry standing on the bed above him, completely naked and with the flogger, he’d shown him earlier, in his hand.

“ _Ngh_ , Sir.”

Draco whimpered and a low moan escaped him.

“Like it?”

“Please don’t stop, Sir, please.”

Harry smiled.

“Not planning to, my precious little prince.”

He delivered another blow. It was gentle and sensual and yet more wax flew off Draco’s back. He slowly continued until he’d cleared every inch of Draco’s back and he was able to admire the pink streaks the wax had left behind. They stood out beautifully against Draco’s naturally pale skin. His arse was still deeply red and Harry teased it with the flogger, drawing moan after moan after moan from Draco’s now perpetually parted lips.

Eventually, he was satisfied with his work and kneeling on the bed, he put the flogger aside and pulled Draco into his arms.

“You did you well, my pretty little prince, you were perfect.”

He whispered sweet praise directly into Draco’s ear, listening to him mewl and whimper and feel him push into his comforting embrace. Harry tightened his hold on him, squeezed him gently and then moved to kiss him, deeply, possessively. As he did so, he expertly manoeuvred Draco onto his back, getting him to lie down with his arms stretched out above his head.

Draco hissed when his arse connected with the silken bedsheets and giving him time to adjust, Harry reached for the tub of coconut oil and covered Draco’s entire front, including his genitals, which Draco had recently shaven and which therefore were entirely devoid of pubic hair, with a thick layer of the intoxicating natural oil.

Its scent lingered in the air and Harry took his time lathering Draco up. He worked slowly and deliberately and straddling Draco’s hips, he playfully rolled his hips, felt Draco’s cock twitch in response and holding his gaze, he toyed with Draco’s nipples, rubbing his thumbs over them, grazing them with his fingernails, and twisting them between his fingers.

A series of delectable sounds fell from Draco’s lips and drifted through the air, reverberating in Harry’s ears and he smiled, leant down and captured Draco’s lips in a fierce kiss, swallowing a low moan as he did so. He poured all his emotions into the kiss and all the thousand little things he felt for Draco and his heart swelled in his chest at the memory of what they’d just shared.

Draco had, willingly, kneeled and bend forward for him and submitted to a firm, prolonged but mutually fulfilling spanking. He hadn’t stopped there either. He’d remained in his beautifully submissive position and lost himself in the sensations of having hot wax dripped all over his backside, his throbbing arse, and the back of his legs, then have it sensually flogged off him with the greatest care.

Harry slowly, and rather grudgingly, pulled away from the kiss and looked at Draco, smiling warmly when Draco slowly opened his eyes and stared up at him. His beautiful silvery-grey orbs shone with adoration and love and Harry felt a lump form in his throat. It grew persistently and blinking a few times to keep his own emotions in check, he kissed Draco’s forehead, caressed his cheek, and then ran his hand through Draco’s silky blond hair, marvelling in the softness of it.

“Sir.”

Draco whispered the word into the small space between both their faces or breathed it more likely, and Harry tried his best to swallow past the lump, then cleared his throat and wetted his lips a little.

“You’re absolutely perfect, my love. Truly wonderful, you did amazingly well and I’m so proud of you, my little prince.”

Harry kept his voice low and warm and as he spoke Draco flushed and blinked rapidly, clearly feeling rather emotional about it all. Harry didn’t blame him. Draco had clearly planned this to some extent but Harry was sure that it hadn’t been his intention to jump into the scene without talking about it first. It was a little unlike Draco but perhaps it was for the better. He hadn’t freaked out or panicked yet and Harry highly doubted that he would. For that, he was enjoying himself too much and was already too far gone and thoroughly lost in his submission.

“Thank you, Sir.”

“It’s my pleasure, sweet one.”

Harry smiled and leaning a little to the side, he reached for the blindfold and took it out of the drawer but kept it out of Draco’s line of sight. He also took the second roll of the black silken sash restraints and used it to tie Draco’s already bound wrists to the headboard, ensuring that his knots were firm and secure.

“OK?” Harry asked.

Draco gave the restraints a gentle tug and nodded.

“Yes, Sir.”

Harry smiled and caressed Draco’s cheek.

“I like you like this, my little prince. On your back, wriggling a little because your freshly-spanked behind is still throbbing, and excited about what I’ll do next. Are you ready for a little more, my love? Are you ready to spice things up and to make this a memory you won’t ever forget?”

Draco swallowed.

“Yes, Sir. I’m ready, Sir.”

“Hm, you’re such a good boy, aren’t you? So polite and sweet and patient. I like this side of you and I love the fact that I’m the only one who gets to see it. I’m the only one you don’t wear a mask for, isn’t that so, my little prince?”

“Yes, Sir. I trust you and I feel safe with you. Always.”

“You’ll always be safe with me, sweet one. No matter what and for as long as you’ll let me, I’ll keep you safe, I promise you that.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Just perfect.”

Harry smiled and Draco’s cheeks flushed a darker shade of red. Harry caressed one of his cheeks, then showed him the blindfold.

“Let’s add a bit more intensity to this next round, shall we?”

The teasing undertone in Harry's voice distracted Draco enough to not focus on the fact that he’d momentarily tensed up a little and that he’d let out an involuntary gasp.

For a second, a flicker of fear shone in his eyes but it was gone just as fast as it had appeared. A serene sort of calmness settled in his eyes and his gaze was steady. He looked entirely sure of himself and Harry praised him for it, whispered the words right into his ear, then kissed his earlobe and flicked his tongue over it, sucked it into his mouth, and nibbled on the sensitive flesh, while the fingers of his hand found one of Draco’s nipples and toyed with the hard nubs.

Draco moaned and breathed heavily and when Harry pulled back a little the first thing he noticed, was the strong desire that filled Draco’s eyes.

“My precious little prince, I’ll make this so good for you, I promise. I want you to wear the blindfold and concentrate on the sensations alone. Just feel. Feel the sting of the wax, feel the warmth of it, feel my caress, feel my presence. Lose yourself in that, my little prince.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Draco sounded breathless and when Harry placed the black silk blindfold over his eyes, he gasped. Harry kissed him on the lips and reassured him, promising him that he wouldn’t go anywhere. That he’d stay right here where Draco could feel his presence.

He moved off Draco’s hips and kneeling on the bed next to him, he took out a white candle and a red candle, and holding them securely in one hand he set fire to their wicks. While the flames flickered and burned, he caressed Draco’s stomach, rubbing slow circles over it. He could feel Draco’s breathing slow, felt it regulate itself and giving him another few moments to acclimatise to the sensations, Harry let the candles burn.

Melted hot wax began to pool at the top of both candles and the small flames reflected in it, giving the liquid wax a strange sort of glow.

Harry smiled, ran the flat of his hand over Draco’s chest, right between his nipples, then withdrew his hand and moving the candles into position, Harry simultaneously tipped both candles over, just like he’d done with the black and purple candle on Draco’s back, and watched as the wax landed on Draco’s chest. Thin trails of red and white wax spread into all four directions, reaching his nipples, the hollow of his throat and his stomach.

Draco hissed and gasped and arched his back in response to the sensations and Harry slowly and deliberately drizzled several drops of hot wax onto his nipples, covering them entirely with wax. A low moan fell from Draco’s lips and he tugged on his restraints, though not to free himself but to cope with the sensations that spread through him as the wax splashed onto his sensitive skin. It was hot and it stung yet it felt incredibly good, Harry was sure of that.

He trailed red and white wax down Draco’s stomach, drew a circle of melted wax around his navel but made sure to avoid letting it pool inside Draco’s belly button — it was the quickest way to burn somebody and Harry had no plans to leave lasting marks on Draco. He paused for a moment, caressed Draco’s cheek, and then leant forward to kiss him.

“You’re doing so well, my love. Can you take a little more?”

“Yes, Sir, please. It feels so good.”

Harry smiled.

“I don’t doubt that,” he said.

Running his index finger over the one reminder of the curse he’d cast on Draco in their sixth year at Hogwarts, he felt Draco quiver underneath his gentle touch and lifting the candles just a little higher, he slowly tipped them over and covered the scar with hot wax, hiding it completely underneath a thick layer of the rapidly cooling liquid. He bent low and blowing cool air over the wax, he ensured that it hardened a little faster, then circled his fingers around the makeshift cover he’d created for the scar.

Draco gasped and his entire body trembled. He let out a low moan and Harry covered most of the scar with the palm of his hand and applied gentle pressure.

“It’s gone, my little prince,” he whispered.

A wretched sob tore through Draco and he shook a little more, so Harry caressed his cheek and kissed him softly, gently.

“I love you, my perfect little prince, you’re mine and I’ll keep you safe for an eternity if you let me, I promise you.”

“ _Ngh_.”

Draco choked on whatever he’d been about to say and Harry ran his fingers through his hair and kissed him again.

“You are so beautiful; I’ll show you in a bit.”

Draco’s lips quivered and he nodded but didn’t make another attempt to speak and Harry didn’t force him.

Instead, he moved his hand to Draco’s hip, squeezed it gently, then spread his thighs apart and moving the candles into position, he slowly covered the insides of Draco’s thighs with melted wax, letting it drip onto his skin and run wherever it wanted to run.

A waterfall of truly mesmerising sounds filled the room, all falling from Draco’s lips. He gasped and hissed and moaned and sighed and whimpered and keened. He also begged for more, pleading with Harry to continue supplying him with the intense sensations the hot wax evoked. He arched his back, curled his toes, tugged on his restraints, and writhed on the bed, and for once Harry didn’t stop him, didn’t ask him to be quiet or keep still. No, he relished in watching Draco slowly succumb to the feeling of having hot wax drizzled all over him and continuing to cover Draco’s legs and his torso with drop after drop of hot melted wax, Harry started to feel a bit bold.

Draco was taking the sensations so well that he simply couldn’t resist and waiting for a few moments, he let a decent amount of wax melt and pool around the burning wick, then tipped the candles over and poured the wax just underneath Draco’s wax-covered scar. Some of the thick liquid ran towards Draco’s hips, some towards the scar but most of it flowed towards the base of Draco’s cock and he hissed at the new and very much unexpected feeling that flowed through him as the wax touched his most private region.

“OK?” Harry asked.

Draco nodded and swallowed.

“ _Ngh_ , yes, Sir, yes, absolutely yes.”

Harry smiled and kissed Draco.

“Bold little prince, want a bit more of the same?”

“Please.”

Draco made a whiny sound that resonated through him and Harry chuckled and captured his lips in another kiss.

“This will be intense, are you sure?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“OK, take a few deep breaths.”

Harry gave Draco ample time to get ready and stroking his cock softly, he felt it harden underneath his deliberately teasing touch. By the time it was semi-hard, enough wax had melted and pooled around the two candles’ wicks. Harry reluctantly stopped teasing and lifted the candles a little higher than before. He started with a single drop and when Draco merely hissed but didn’t tell him to stop, he continued trailing a series of drops of melted wax along Draco’s cock as well as his sensitive balls, covering the area with more of the hot thick liquid.

Draco arched his back further than before, curled his toes and pressed his heels into the mattress, tugged at his restraints, and let out a low moan that turned into a hiss when Harry circled his thumb around the head of his cock, then dropped more wax along the length of it. He gently fondled Draco’s balls, coated them in a thin layer of wax and gave them a light squeeze. Draco groaned and arched his back further.

“ _Ngh_ , Harry, Harry, Harry.”

He chanted breathlessly and giving him a moment of respite, Harry slowly dripped the melted wax onto his thighs, his stomach, his chest, his nipples, and then returned to Draco’s cock, covering it in a little bit more wax. By now, Harry had covered most of Draco’s body, apart from his arms, in red and white wax with a few blotches of pink and he looked truly stunning. The wax had hardened in several places and what with the layer of coconut oil, it didn’t cling to the skin but peeled in a few areas while it continued to stick tight in others.

Harry drizzled one last trail from Draco’s cock, all the way up to his nipples, then extinguished the candle stumps and placed them in the wax play box. He crawled over Draco, straddled him, and bracing himself on his arms with his hands on either side of Draco’s head, he bent down and captured Draco’s parted lips in a passionate kiss, plunging his tongue into Draco’s mouth and seeking out his own tongue to battle it fiercely.

Draco arched into him, responded to the kiss with ardent enthusiasm and for a while, Harry lost himself in the moment, lost himself in the sensations of kissing Draco and in the aftermath of what he’d just done for the first time ever.

He’d covered Draco in wax; head to toe and back to front. And Draco, despite his longstanding aversion to all things fire, had enjoyed himself, had made the sweetest and most delicious sounds and Harry never wanted to stop kissing Draco. He wanted to continue until they both descended into another world and until he, too, lost himself completely.

He felt dizzy and heady and unable to resist the temptation, he let go.

He briefly broke the kiss to fill his lungs with as much air as they could take and continued to kiss Draco. He felt him struggle against the restraints, felt him move underneath him, and swallowed yet another moan that fell from Draco’s lips and filled the room.

Harry had no idea for how long he continued to kiss Draco but by the time he finally broke away and didn’t dive back in for another passionate attack, his lips were swollen and tingled from the deliberate overuse — not that he was complaining.

Draco’s weren’t in a much better state. They, too, were kiss-swollen and glistened with a layer of saliva. Harry swept the tip of his tongue over them and Draco hummed. The vibrations increased the pleasant tingle in Harry’s lips and reaching behind Draco’s head, he undid the blindfold and gently pulled it off Draco’s eyes, returning his eyesight to him.

It took Draco several moments to focus and he blinked rapidly to speed up the process, then his gaze steadied and he looked directly at Harry. His irises were a stunning dark charcoal grey and his black pupils were larger than usual. There was a glimmer to his look that Harry only ever saw whenever they played and only when the scene was intense enough to really push Draco under, push him deep.

He smiled and with a whole lot of affection, he caressed Draco’s cheek, then moved away and since his conjured mirror was still floating above them just underneath the bed’s canopy, Draco now had a perfect look of his own wax-covered body and his restrained arms.

His mouth silently dropped open, forming an o-shape and he stared at his mirror image, taking it all in and looking at his reflection as though he was seeing himself for the very first time in his life.

Harry put the blindfold aside and running his fingers through Draco’s hair, he smiled.

“I’m so proud of you, my little prince, you did so well, so, so well. You’re my brave little prince and you look absolutely stunning like this, covered in wax.”

Harry whispered his praise and Draco’s gaze slowly shifted and settled on him. They looked at each other for a minute and Harry watched, silently, as Draco’s chest rose and fell, at first steadily, then faster and more irregular. His eyes filled with tears and he blinked rapidly and pressed his lips together firmly but didn’t manage to force back the sob that stubbornly insisted on making itself heard.

It filled the room and with it, the tears started to fall.

Harry had seen Draco cry before, had seen him succumb to his emotions after a heavy scene, had even seen him cry while they made love and had seen him get teary during Caleb’s and Stefan’s collaring ceremony but he’d never seen him cry like this.

It was the cathartic sort of cry, the one you couldn’t hold back or control, no matter how hard you tried. It was an avalanche of emotions getting the better of Draco all at once and he sobbed, not pitifully, but strangely beautiful.

So, his face was blotched and his eyes red-rimmed and his nose somewhat snotty but to Harry, he still looked beautiful, stunningly so, but when he told Draco so, Draco only cried harder and sobbed louder. Harry slowly ran his fingers through Draco’s damp and oily hair, kissed his cheeks and repeatedly told him that he was safe and that it was OK to give in to his emotions.

Draco’s fingers twisted around the silk sash restraints and he squeezed but didn’t tug. His teary-eyed gaze flickered between his own reflection and Harry, and deciding to take things one step further, Harry reached for the flogger he’d abandoned early. He slipped his hand through the wrist strap, grabbed the handle tightly, and letting the tresses run down Draco’s body, he teased him with the soft wild leather.

A low half-moan, half-sob filled the room and raising his hand up a little, Harry brought the tresses down across Draco’s chest, sending the dried wax flying into all directions. Draco sobbed loudly and a fresh wave of tears stained his cheeks but his lips curled into a smile.

“More, Sir, please,” he begged, breathlessly.

Harry nodded, silently and getting into a more comfortable position, he continued to gently flog the hardened wax off Draco’s body, sending it flying across the bed and the floor. He paid no heed to any of that but kept his eyes firmly locked on Draco, whose sobs had quietened down but whose tears still fell freely. Harry took his time and was meticulous in his task, removing every drop of wax. He saved Draco’s cock and his balls for last and teasing it with the flogger’s tresses, he smacked it very slightly, sending a shudder surging through Draco; one that made him arch his back and moan in delight.

Pleased with Draco’s positive reaction, Harry continued and after a while, he’d removed most off the wax from Draco’s private region. The rest he peeled off with his fingers and once he was satisfied, he waved his hand and vanished the remnants of the wax play. He also dropped the flogger onto the floor, moved to wax play box to the nightstand and releasing Draco’s bonds, he tossed those aside too, then pulled Draco into his arms and hugged him with all four of his limbs, squeezing him tightly.

Draco curled into his embrace, making himself especially small and Harry simply held him, kissed the top of his head, and caressed the strands of blond hair that covered the nape of Draco’s neck. He ran his fingertips along Draco’s spine and watched as he slowly turned his head to glance at their reflection.

He stared for the longest time but when he was unable to suppress his yawn any longer, he hastily averted his gaze and buried his face against Harry’s chest, inhaling as he yawned and exhaling hotly and he breathed out. Harry vanished the mirror and hugged Draco even tighter.

“I’ve got you, my sweet prince, in my arms, you’re safe, always.”

Draco mumbled something entirely incomprehensible but instead of questioning it, Harry let him drift between light slumber, wakefulness, and a different world altogether. He let out a yawn too, and after a half-hearted cleaning spell to vanish at least some of the wax he’d inadvertently sent flying everywhere, he allowed his own eyes to close and dozed for a while.

 

A little over an hour passed before either one of them felt coherent enough to attempt talking and Harry tried his best to coax Draco out of bed but didn’t get very far since Draco seemed to be a man on a mission, intent on kissing every inch of him. He initially tried telling Draco off, teasingly whispered something about another spanking into his ear, but nothing could deter Draco and eventually, Harry relented and let him have his fun.

It started innocently enough but when Draco’s apt mouth and tongue started to travel south, Harry felt his cock react and by the time Draco had reached the base of it, it was fully erect and begging for attention.

Draco looked up at him from under lowered lashes and gnawed at his bottom lip. Harry’s heart fluttered a little and he reached out to comb his fingers through Draco’s messy hair.

“Please, Sir, may I?” Draco asked.

Harry smiled but inside of him, a possessive growl threatened to take over his mind.

“Yes, my little prince, yes, you absolutely may.”

Harry’s permission was all it took for Draco to part his lips, cover his teeth, and suck him into the hot wet cavern that was his mouth. His hands squeezed Harry’s thighs lightly and he comfortably sucked more than half of Harry’s hard length deep into his mouth. Harry groaned and twisted his fingers into Draco’s hair, guiding him and encouraging him with sweet words of praise.

“Yes, that’s it, my little prince, _ngh_ , yes, so good, you’re doing this perfectly.”

Draco hummed around his cock and the vibrations sent Harry’s mind spiralling right out of his mind. His arousal had been pooling low in his groin pretty much ever since he’d woken up this morning and he was dying for relief but he also wanted this to last, wanted this to be more than just a quick blowjob.

What with their earlier scene and the intensity of the wax play, there was no way he was going to allow Draco to finish him off. He did let him worship his cock until he began to struggle to hold back his orgasm.

It was then that he gently forced Draco to ease off his cock and when he silently pouted and begged for Harry’s permission to continue, Harry merely smiled and shook his head.

“Please, Sir.”

“All in good time, my love, come on straddle my thighs, yes, just like that, good boy.”

Draco seductively crawled up to him, kneeled astride his thighs and placed his hands behind his back. He was about to sit back on his haunches when Harry stopped him and summoning a phial of lube, he made Draco watch as he uncorked the glass container and coated his fingers with the clear liquid and moving it behind Draco’s back, he let his slippery fingers slide into the crack between his butt cheeks, sought out Draco’s hole and pressed the tip of his finger against it, then lightly rubbed over and around it.

Draco groaned and shuddered a little, especially when Harry wrapped his other hand around Draco’s cock and stroked it, slowly, teasingly and with the sole intention of driving Draco wanton instead of bringing him any kind of relief.

“Hold still, my little prince.”

Harry whispered the words, then pushed one finger into Draco’s arse, breaching the tight muscle, which clenched first then fluttered and loosened to admit his digit. Harry pushed it all the way in, curled it and rubbing up against Draco’s prostate, he stimulated that walnut-sized pleasure point until Draco began to grate his hips and not only thrust into his loose fist but also pull back and then impale himself on Harry’s finger.

“Beautiful, just beautiful, my little prince,” Harry said with a smile. “Tell me, will you come from this?”

Draco mewled.

“No, Sir.”

“What do you need?”

“Your permission.”

“Well, yes, that’s out of the question. What else?”

“More, please, Sir. Harry.”

“More what, my little prince?”

“Another finger, please.”

“Hm, ask nicely, then maybe.”

Harry smirked and Draco groaned.

“ _Ngh_ , Harry, please. Please, may I have another finger, please?”

Instead of giving him a verbal response, Harry withdrew his index finger from Draco’s tight channel and pushed back inside with two.

Draco groaned at the added pressure and stilled his movements.

Harry gave him a moment to adjust, then slowly pulled his fingers out and pushed them back inside. He curled them, continued to stimulate Draco’s prostate, and alternated between slowly finger-fucking him and thoroughly teasing his pleasure point until he was a moaning, trembling wreck. He also continued to stroke Draco’s cock, although what he was doing barely classified as stroking; it was more of a ghost touch, designed to slowly drive Draco crazy with lust and the need for more.

It worked perfectly and it didn’t take long for Draco to start begging again, to plead with him to give him more.

Harry ignored Draco’s pleas for quite some time, then coated his own cock with plenty of lube and guided Draco to lower himself down on it, forcing him to take his entire length up his arse, filling him, and stretching his tight hole.

“Yes, that’s it, just like this my pretty little prince. You wanted more, I gave you a toy, now show me how you play with it.”

Harry smirked and with a devilish glint in his eyes, he ensured that Draco kept his hands behind his back. He sat up further and even though Draco sat astride his legs and on top of him, he made it abundantly clear that he was not in charge but could only play for as long as Harry wanted him to.

Draco nodded in silent understanding but used his words when Harry clicked his tongue and asked him whether he’d understood.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good boy, now show me how you play, pretty little prince.”

“ _Ngh_.”

Draco moaned and slowly raising himself up, he pulled off Harry’s cock, then gradually sank back down and throwing his head back, he let out a shameless moan.

“That good, eh?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Do it again.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Draco obeyed without hesitation and although his thighs trembled and he could barely remain upright, he repeatedly pulled off Harry’s cock, let it almost slip out of his arse, then impaled himself on it, groaning as the hard throbbing flesh filled and stretched him over and over again. His movements were slow and sluggish and Harry didn’t begrudge him his lack of energy. It wasn’t because he wasn’t enthusiastic enough but because Harry had already pushed his boundaries to the limit with their earlier wax play session.

Sensing that Draco needed some assistance, Harry effortlessly flipped him onto his back, told him to pull his legs up to his chest and bracing himself on the bed, his hands either side of Draco’s shoulders, he entered him again and slowly fucked into him. He used long deep strokes and was in no hurry to reach the finishing line.

Draco kept his eyes mostly locked on him but eventually reached a point where he struggled to keep them open and as they slowly fluttered closed, Harry thrust a little harder and a little faster. He groaned at the sensations, the tight grip Draco’s muscles had on his cock, the slippery push and pull, and the slow build-up of his climax.

“Put your hands above your head for me, my little prince,” Harry whispered.

Draco obeyed and as he did so, Harry thrust deep into him, then captured his lips in a slow and lazy kiss.

“You are perfect and I love you so very much.”

He murmured the words against Draco’s lips and Draco inhaled deeply and opened his eyes again. He blinked and stared up at Harry and smiled. Harry reciprocated and continued to slowly thrust into Draco, then pull out of him again, drawing the inevitable out until he was so close to the edge that he couldn’t physically fall back any longer. He let himself go, let his orgasm explode deep inside his groin and thrusting all the way into Draco, he filled him with his come, and kissed him.

Draco’s fingers twisted themselves into the sheets and he squeezed tightly, then groaned when Harry pulled out of him, slipped two fingers into him, and sought out his prostate. He massaged it and at the same time wrapped his hand around Draco’s cock and stroked it.

This time, he didn’t tease.

This time, he deliberately brought Draco right to the edge, held him there for an excruciatingly long time, then finally granted him the permission to come.

Draco exploded all over his hand and his muscles clenched around Harry’s fingers, trapping them inside his arse. Harry used the opportunity to press them against Draco’s prostate, effectively prolonging and intensifying his orgasm.

Utterly spent and thoroughly exhausted, Harry curled up on the bed, pulled Draco into his arms and they both promptly fell asleep but woke up some fifty minutes later when the mess they’d made of the bed made getting some proper rest a complete nightmare.

Instead, they dragged themselves into the large en-suite bathroom showered together and grudgingly put on some clothes when a glance at the time told them that it was well past two o’clock in the afternoon and their stomachs grumbled in protest after they’d ignored them for so long.

Before leaving the room, Draco stripped the bed completely and instead of leaving the pile of sheets and covers on the floor for the house elves to take care of, he thrust all of it into the fireplace across the room and told Harry to cast _Incendio_ at it.

Harry laughed but did not hesitate and while Draco stood beside him, he wrapped one arm around him in a protective embrace, and with his other hand, he drew his wand and set the soiled sheets on fire, vanishing them for all eternity.

They rather rapidly turned to ash and one the fire was out, Draco dragged him out of the room and downstairs into the kitchens, where he convinced the house elves to cook them a late lunch and serve it on the terrace at the back of the Manor.

On their way there, they bumped into Narcissa, who gave them both odd looks, smirked but when they inquired what amused her, she merely waved her hand, shook her head, and wandered down the hallway, muttering something to herself.

“Your mother is odd,” Harry said as they continued towards the terrace.

“You’ve been dating me for over a year and you’ve only worked that out now?”

Draco laughed, slipped his hand into Harry’s, and smiled when Harry squeezed his fingers.

“Yeah, well, I was trying to be polite.”

“But you’ve given up on it?”

Harry shook his head.

“I thought I’d try honesty.”

“Ah. And I thought you had double standards.”

Harry frowned.

“What sort of double standards?”

“Well, you ask me to be polite…”

Harry smirked.

“And your point is?”

“Nothing. Never mind. I’m not making any sense.”

“When do you ever?”

“Oi! Don’t be mean.”

“I’m not. Must be your sass rubbing off on me.”

Draco rolled his eyes but said nothing more.

Instead, they sat across from each other at a small round table and one of the house elves brought them cool lemon water and freshly-made sandwiches. They ate in silence, too hungry and still too tired to sustain a proper conversation and by the end of their meal, they simply leant back in their seats, closed their eyes for a bit and dozed in the shade.

After a while, they decided to return to Draco’s room and pleased to find that one of the elves and made the bed during their brief absence, they stripped naked and curled up in each other’s arms underneath the covers.

“You know, I feel bad,” Draco whispered after he’d used magic to draw the curtains and darken the room, successfully keeping the sun out.

“Why?”

“Because it’s your birthday and we’re spending all day in bed, it’s a very uneventful celebration.”

Harry smiled.

“I think this morning was very eventful. Or do you disagree?”

“Yes, but—”

“No buts. This is perfect. After the craziness of the last two months, all I want is a bit of quality time with you. Just the two of us, sharing a meal, spending time in bed, playing, being together. It’s perfect, it’s all I want.”

“Hm, I always want all of that. I still feel that we should do something special.”

“We can go for a swim in the lake later.”

Draco grimaced.

“The hell will I get into that muddy water. You know I can’t swim.”

“I’ll teach you.”

Draco shook his head.

“One cathartic event per one successful year in a relationship with you is all I can take. Let’s save the water sports for next year’s anniversary.”

Harry laughed.

“Water sports?”

Draco groaned and nudged his upper arm.

“Filthy bastard, you know what I mean. Not _those_ water sports, you wanker.”

“Such a dirty mouth. Watch it, or I’ll drag you into the bathroom and use a bit of soap on you. Wash that mouth out good and proper.”

Draco pursed his lips and looked rather miffed.

Harry smiled.

“Free pass, but only because I’m tired and you’re cute.”

Draco immediately protested.

“I’m always cute,” he said.

“Yes, but I’m not always tired.”

Grumbling something incomprehensible, Draco pulled a face and attempted to turn away but Harry was faster and poked his side, forcing a yelp from him, followed by a giggle.

“Don’t. Stop that. You know I’m ticklish.”

“And that’s exactly why I won’t stop.”

Harry refused and pinning Draco to the bed he tickled him in earnest and until he was completely breathless. Only then did he ease up with his attack and rolling onto his back, he stared at the ceiling and when Draco, a few moments later, had calmed down enough to lie on his side and prop his head up on his elbow, Harry turned his head to the side and simply looked at him.

Draco opened his mouth and was about to say something but for whatever reason, the words got stuck in his throat and falling silent, he smiled softly and closed his mouth.

Harry reached out, ran his fingers through Draco’s silky soft blond hair and held his gaze for several minutes, then smiled and nodded.

“I’m going to marry you someday, Draco Malfoy.”

* * *

 

**The End**

* * *

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Little Prince, Kneel II](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20731499) by [DragonGirl87](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonGirl87/pseuds/DragonGirl87)




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